My Happily Ever After
by emeraldclouds
Summary: I never got my happily ever after. Jacob left with Leah, and my family got torn apart. And the worst part? Whenever I close my eyes, I see five horrible images. Those images, I'll never forget, engraved into my mind forever...
1. Abuse

A World that Never Existed: Chapter 1

Whenever I shut my eyes, I see five images, playing in my mind like a broken recorder, like a perfectly clear PowerPoint slideshow. The first was of him, my Jacob, the handsome russet-skinned man who had never truly belonged to me. The second was of Leah, the beautiful goddess-like woman Jacob had chosen over me, the one whose glossy black hair looked like silk in the gentle breeze. The third was of my mother, Bella, telling me that she didn't want this family anymore, and that tall fair-haired man taking her away from us. The fourth was of my father, Edward, shouting in agony as Bella left him forever to be with another man, and some of the others, Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper, dragging him out the back door in order to escape this house, escape this world where they had brutally committed murder. The fifth was of my darling grandmother, Esme, pleading and begging on her knees for mercy while Jasper held a gun to her forehead.

My aunt Alice and I had watched from a corner, both in anger and pain. Whilst Alice had tears silently running down her cheeks, I was banging my fists against the wall in a childish fit, screaming and wailing even though it would not help Esme. My uncle Jasper had mercilessly abused Aunt Alice for years, but she kept silent now, and for some reason Jasper and the others, Carlisle, Rosalie, and Emmett, saw no need to take the life out of this innocent human being, though they were doing it right now before my very eyes to my beloved grandmother. Edward was somewhere outside the house, I could not see him but I could still smell the faint scent of his usually overpowering cologne, signaling that he was probably just outside the door. Perhaps Jasper saw me as a frail, weak child, merely sixteen years old, with no one to protect me from the outside world but myself. Perhaps he'd left Aunt Alice to me as an act of mercy, after all I was his niece. But then I remembered what he'd done to Grandma Esme. His own mother.

Of course my aunt Alice and I, we had to try, to keep Esme's life with her, just this attempt. But how was that possible? Surely Rosalie's spiteful, biting remarks, which would usually insult one to tears, would not deter us. But what about those strong men, Jasper keeping Esme locked in place while Carlisle and Emmett shoved us roughly up against the wall and reduced us to a mess of bloody skin and tears?

What had happened to the blissful family I had been born into sixteen years ago, where peals of laughter rang in the halls every single minute people were in the house? I had used to find that annoying, I admit. But now I wonder how I could possibly feel that way after all that had happened, tearing our family apart…and bringing us into this state. Was murder the only option?

We lived on the outskirts of the town, where the state officials hardly ever bothered to reach us, and I thought for a moment that perhaps Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper had been waiting, all along, for the perfect stage. I remembered when we still lived in a big house in the heart of the city, and every day of my life had seemed a perfectly normal day, except for those rare times when a quarrel would break out between members of the family. But all those little quarrels would be resolved in an hour, the most, and all of us went on with our lives as peaceful as before.

Now that I really thought about it, I realized that it might be the truth that had been hidden from me. Had I just discovered it, or did all the adults know about it already? Well, I certainly wasn't going to ask. I remembered that it was Carlisle who had first brought up the idea of moving to a quieter, more meditation-worthy house on the outskirts of the town. He was the head of the family, after all, and so we agreed. We moved to our new home four days after my tenth birthday. Everyone had always referred to it as my "late birthday present".

All the abuse, the screams, the torture behind the closed doors, started then. I hadn't noticed much at first. I had always thought of it as more frequent quarrels, but being the innocent young preteen that I was then, I never thought more about it. I never discussed anything, my being an only child and I would never talk about sensitive issues with grown-ups.

I only started to take notice the year I turned twelve, screaming, and shrieking all night prevented me from getting any sleep. In the morning, I was finally prepared to complain to my family, but all thoughts of irritation, annoyance and complaints were washed out of my mind when I saw my aunt Alice and Esme. I got black circles beneath my eyes from the sleepless night, but my two relatives had suffered much, much worse.

Aunt Alice had a streak of blood on her cheek (which had soon turned into a permanent scar), and both of them had bruises and cuts all over their bodies. I realized that their nightgowns were dirty and torn, and they hardly ever spoke anymore.

Then my own mother. Bella. Walking out of her room without looking at anyone but Edward. The worst part was that she didn't even look pained or regretful. She was practically smirking at him, rubbing it in his face. Behind her walked out a tall man, _that tall man_, the fair-haired one, still fondling her and rubbing her shoulders. They were both undressed.

Where was I? Oh, yes. I was just about to tell you about Jacob. There's nothing about him that you wouldn't love. It still pains me to think about him. Funny how the pain in your heart can always overshadow any pain, even physical pain.

The worst part was that he didn't even bother to dump me. Now I know, I have never meant much to him, and probably never will. I don't even think I'll see him again. All I have to remember him by is that old photo of us on the beach near his house. Both of us smiling at the camera, his arms around me, looking like nothing could ever separate us. Leah, yes, it was Leah, she was the one who had taken that photo.

I haven't made it clear, have I? I haven't been sure of this ever since left, but I'm sure now. Being dumped by him would have been better than not even getting dumped at all. It's cowardly for a man to just run away from me, because he can't face me to tell me that we're breaking up. But I still love him, even though I blame him, yes, I know that deep in my heart I still love him, and I'm grateful to my heart that memory has stored him, and his lips, in perfect condition, not even the passage of time could erase that. Not even Leah, who's black-haired, fair-skinned and beautiful.

I first met Jacob in school, on the night of the Spring Dance. We were supposed to change partners every two dancers, and for that fateful two dances, we were together. It was like immediate, snap attraction. You just knew that this person in front of you had to be in your life.

Gradually, we formed a strong bond. It started out as just acquaintances, then buddies, then friends…eventually we became a couple.

I didn't notice Leah watching us particularly, because I didn't even notice anyone anymore. My life was about Jacob. I had given my heart to him, and…the virginity of my lips to him. He might just as well have never known that I wanted something more, because we never talked about how our kids would look like. I know it's childish to be waiting for an old love that would never come back. It's already been five years now. I'm turning 21. Yet not a single text, email, call…no nothing. I'm just storing that last little shred of hope in my heart and wish that he'll come back. But what use is it wishing for something that you know will never come true?

Aunt Alice always told me that I wasn't those type of girl whom nobody wanted. She said that people could admire me, could love me. In other words, she was telling me to move on. To toss that last shred of hope and flush it out. But I stubbornly refused to let go of Jacob, and eventually she gave up. I didn't attend university, not at all. I could wait for Jacob forever. So what if he wasn't planning on ever coming back? I had given him my heart, my hopes, my dreams, my future. I had given him everything I owned. I had given my life to him in trust that we could spend our next fifty years together. So what? Face reality, Renesmee: He doesn't want you anymore. Who needs anyone to spend their life with me, anyway? I can survive on my own.

Could I?


	2. Secret

Chapter 2

I had to support Aunt Alice and myself financially, of course, so I applied for a housekeeping job at the local employment agency. After three years of fruitless attempts to get a job, ranging from a shoe store salesgirl to a café waitress to a job sorting out papers at the mail office, my call for a job was finally answered by an old man named Sebastian Kenny Rogers, a man whose wife had died years ago and whose daughter lived abroad in London with her husband and two children. He lived alone in a mansion in the heart of the city, and was quite lonely for that matter. He seemed strange to me. Why hadn't he employed maids sooner, his being the wealthy and lonely man in this state? I was still confused, but I took up the job anyway.

Mr Rogers phoned me on Wednesday.

"Renesmee, isn't it? You can start coming on Friday, this Friday. I will have to request you to come to my house every single day, including Sundays. I believe the employment agency has already reported my information and address to you, so I shall not touch on that. You are required to keep the house clean, and perhaps you have been told that I give you your salary by weeks, not by months. As you probably know, I can afford more than I tell you, and I say you tell me how much you expect." Mr Rogers's voice sounded, well…old, and it sounded somewhat scratchy, like rough sandpaper.

I didn't know. I had no experience in salary and jobs whatsoever. I could very easily get duped by others because I didn't have experience in any form of life…oh, yes, I had experience in abuse, but was that a form of life? Probably not. Anyway, I had a feeling that this Rogers man would do anything to keep me in his house…for good or for bad? That, I couldn't tell, didn't know.

"What you're prepared to give, Mr Rogers," I answered timidly. "I just need enough money to support my aunt and myself."

"Oh," Mr Rogers chuckled, I could hear the smile in his voice. "Call me Sebastian. I've not been used to others calling me Mr Rogers for awhile. Tell you what, I give you $250 per week, and all that is said…you only have to keep the house clean for me, and nothing more. I'll provide you with all the necessary equipments."

So, as agreed, I started my job as a housekeeper for Sebastian on Friday. I took a bus to the Upper Coast, where his house was roughly situated on, then walked to Jasmine Beach, a short distance away from the Upper Coast. Technically, Jasmine Beach wasn't a beach at all because there are supposed to be sun and sea on a beach but Forks would never satisfy that 'sun' criteria. They just named it that way to sound exotic and beautiful, but Jasmine Beach is really a port and then rows of houses and the bigger mansions at the back, with malls and bakeries and banks and everything in-between. Jasmine Beach is technically a 'rich people' place, where all the wealthy ones live in the houses and mansions and shop at the classiest shops, dine at the finest restaurants. People who live in apartments there are despised and looked down upon.

Oh, I forgot to tell you. Ever since Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and Edward left three years ago, Bella left with that stupid man, and Esme was killed, Aunt Alice and I ran out of money, and we rented a small apartment in an old building near the largest bakery in the town.

I pounded the gigantic iron knocker against the door of Sebastian's mansion, thinking that everything rich people owned was ridiculously large and expensive. But maybe, just maybe, if I was rich like the rest of them, I would like to have everything enormously expensive…and not my usual simple-and-cheap style.

I heard the shuffling of feet behind the door, like a snake slithering past in slippers. Moments later the door opened and Sebastian stood before me, looking the opposite of how I had imagined him.

I had imagined a tall but wilted, retired ex-businessman, sitting on a plush leather sofa in a slightly worn black business suit with a blue shirt underneath, complete with a striped tie and full-length long black pants.

Sebastian was wearing a white singlet which had worn to a musty-looking gray, and checked blue-and-gray shorts with unmatching sheepskin slippers. The house had looked well-furnished and rich from the outside, but looks can be deceiving, can't they? Dust covered every inch of the house, and the fur rug had caught layers of dust. The old-fashioned wooden boards looked damp and moldy, and every bit of metal in the room had been coated with thick dark rust.

"Renesmee," Sebastian smiled, revealing two rows of hideously yellowed, crooked teeth. His matted brown hair was messy and dirty, and his eyes were the colour of faded jeans. His eyebrows were short, appeared trimmed to the maximum, whilst his nose was huge, and stood out against his pale skin, his pale, frighteningly thin lips outlining his oddly shaped mouth.

I could feel Sebastian's eyes raking over my tight yellow top and black pants. The set was one of my more presentable outfits. Usually in our apartment with Aunt Alice I just wore a faded black blouse with old gray sweats.

Well, if I was speaking honestly about this job…cleaning the house would take forever. Was this some sort of torture chamber? Was that why Sebastian could never hire any maids to work for him? Should I be quitting my job right now, when I haven't even started? Was it just me or was Sebastian looking at me with a somewhat suspicious, gleaming look in his eye? Should I…

I had endless questions. I had always been an inquisitive child when I was young, but during my family's 'period of abuse', or so I called it personally, I had learned to keep quiet when things got out of control. I was the youngest in the family, after all. Nobody ever bothered to listen to me back then, after we moved into our new home. No one except Aunt Alice and Grandma Esme. It hurt so much to have your father screaming like that while your mother walked out of her room with a man you never knew. It hurt so much to have your grandmother killed. It hurt worse to see Jacob run away from me. And the worst thing was my mental image of the beautiful Leah, engraved forever in my mind, her silky black hair swinging back and forth behind her as she laughed openly at Jacob's jokes while everyone watched on with envy at the perfect couple…

"You seem to have come prepared, Renesmee." I had no idea what Sebastian meant by that. The way he spoke my name sent shivers down my spine. It was eerie, and I was cold. "I can't wait for you to start your job." He rubbed his hands together greedily and advanced toward me. The door slammed shut behind us and self-locked in the dead bolt. "Although I would appreciate it if you wore even less. Your pants are hiding so much of your beautiful self, Renesmee."

He took a step toward me again. I took a step back. He tried to lunge at me but missed. I made a run for the door, but tripped on the carpet and kicked stubbornly at the dead bolt while Sebastian dragged me into his room. The door could only be opened with the key. Was that my only hope of escape?

I attempted to scream, but I couldn't even utter a word. Sebastian made a move to stuff a piece of old ragged cloth in my mouth before I could react. I punched him in the stomach and he grabbed my fist, bending my other fist back before me and grabbing a long thick rope from a table to tie me to a chair. He bound my legs, too, but not before a managed to launch a flying kick into his shin.

I couldn't move. I struggled to free myself from the rope's iron grip but I couldn't. I was weakening by the minute and Sebastian knew it. Tears started running down my face as my supposed screams came out as squeaks through the cloth between my lips. Sebastian grinned in obvious pleasure and removed the cloth. I began to scream but he crashed his lips to mine and started groping all over my body.

His breath smelled of stale bread and mould and I felt like vomiting. I jutted my stomach out to his chest but my efforts were all in vain.

Sebastian replaced the cloth and freed me from my chair-prison, only to yank open another door to the side of his bedroom. The room was dimly lit, and as he threw me into it, I immediately felt the heat and damp humidity inside. The space near the back was occupied and cluttered, filled with all sorts of things, from a rusty old television set to a clump of rough, worn handkerchiefs. I inferred that it was probably his storeroom, but it was quite the largest storeroom I'd ever seen in my life.

At the northeast corner of the storeroom lay a bed with a wooden frame, the mattress upon it yellowed and tattered. Sebastian lifted me up onto it (he was, surprisingly and frustratingly, strong), despite my struggling, and hunched over me in a protective sort of stance as he raised my yellow top up and over my head. I slammed my palms over his to keep my top down, but, as I'd mentioned earlier, he was far stronger than any normal old man I'd seen. He started to remove his white singlet and I saw the full of his arms, now that I had actually noticed, his were tanned, thick and muscular, from real physical labour. They were heavy and deep in comparison against my pale, thin and annoyingly weak arms.

Sebastian's smile was smug and his eyes glinted greedily as he shrugged off my pants with ease, against the force of my kicking. He grabbed a knife from somewhere in the messy pile behind us and held it up to my face. "Stop struggling, Rah-nees-may," he warned. My name came out sounding strange through his curled, snarling lips. "If you do, I'll have no choice but to slit your throat."

The trick worked. I stopped struggling. My face must have been a mask of pain as I lay helplessly on Sebastian's stupid old bed.

He undressed me completely and undressed himself, and I almost gagged in disgust when I saw the curly dark hairs on his chest and pits. I had never been naked in front of anyone else but myself, not even my abusive family, except for when my parents had to bathe me as a baby.

Sebastian began to palm my breasts, and I lay there helplessly. Occasionally I tried to launch a punch or kick into his body, but he always ducked with amazing speed and held out that damn knife to threaten me.

A very long time later, Sebastian let himself out of me with a moan of pleasure. I could not scream, for the cloth was still stuck in my mouth and Sebastian kept my hands busy for stupid things like stroking him or something like that. I could only endure the pain silently, and the first wave of shocking pain came when he broke my hymen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had planned to save my virginity for Jacob. I mean, it had always been him, it _had_ to be him. Who else would I be saving anything for? My life was worth nothing without him. God knows how many times I've attempted suicide, in various ways. It was…Aunt Alice who always saved me from the brink of death. We could not afford it, because Aunt Alice's one wish was to send me to a proper psychologist. Ah, yes, Aunt Alice was the other worthy person in my life. Other than that? Nope, nothing, not at all. I had friends, sure, but who would still want to be friends with a silent freak with an abusive, tragic family background? I never contacted them, and they never bothered to contact me. Slowly, we drifted apart, and even more so when I dropped out of school and they went on to college without me.

When Sebastian decided that I wasn't "fun" to play with anymore (God, has he treated women like toys all his life?), he let me go. But he constantly drilled into me that he was a rich, powerful man with resources, and that his spies and agents could be anywhere, where I least expected them to be. He said that my life was at stake, should I tell anyone.

Aunt Alice was the only one I leaked my horrible secret to, and hence my case never came to court. She was, once, trying to make her way to the city, to the Supreme Court in an attempt to report my case. And even though we could never afford it, she insisted so. I was persistent, but she wouldn't listen.

She got killed by one of Sebastian's "agents" that same day.

One of the most important people who ever lived in my life, now gone! I might as well be dead. I'm hanging on to that little last shred of hope, perhaps Jacob might come back. I know that it's near impossible. But then again, impossible spells "I'm possible", right? And deep down in my heart, I still continue to believe that it's true. Life seems to have looked down on me, but I'm determined not to give up. I can't, I shouldn't, let life underestimate me. Jacob always liked to say that.


	3. Sweet

Chapter 3

I dug out all the money and savings from my bank account, as well as a little dish of spare change in Grandma Esme's old cash box which Carlisle and the others had not bothered taking. Then I left the rented apartment Aunt Alice and I had stayed in, as it brought back far too many sad memories for me to take. I started looking for  
>another place to live.<p>

I knew I was being silly; whoever quit their apartments just so that less memories would come flooding back? Well, I knew the answer. Me, of course. So what if I was being odd. I was used to being unusual and being treated like I didn't belong; I hardly knew anything else in cases in which your family had all fled or been murdered and your soul mate, your other half, the one you just knew you were destined to love  
>forever...even if your heart broke...left. Because, if life is a dream, I can hardly wait to wake up. But it isn't, you know. Life is plain reality in itself, and every step is real. Neither can you take it back.<br>I received news that someone was willing to rent out living quarters to me. Living quarters, it had specified, not apartment. My new landlord seemed to be a rich lady under the name of Leanne Willow MacKenzie. She reportedly lived in a house all by herself in the heart of Lavender Beach, Jasmine Beach's neighboring town. I shuddered when I thought of Jasmine Beach. Sebastian...ohmygod. I packed my belongings in Aunt Alice's old, scruffy black carrier bag. I kept the photo of Jacob and I at the very top, in the best cardboard box I could find, and stuffed it with layers of soft cushion cotton wool. The first day I arrived at Leanne's a dark silhouette stood in the doorway, a woman's silhouette, a willowy figure with perfect posture and curves in all the right places. Her long hair fluttered slightly even though there was no breeze. The figure seemed all too familiar, and I was sure I'd seen her before, somewhere. However, I couldn't quite put my finger on it...

"Renesmee," the woman said. Her voice was smooth, rich and perfect, like the ones of supermodels modelling jeans on television. If I had been a man, though, that voice could have killed me in an instant, that woman had a voice and figure to die for. But that could not all cover for the surprise and shockwaves that voice sent rippling through my entire being, tearing and shredding my heart apart.

Leah Clearwater.

I would have recognized her perfect voice and beautiful face from the moment I set eyes on her, lest I even be burned to ashes. I stepped into the room and tilted my eyes at an angle I could see her face.

It was Leah, all right; her flawless, milky-white skin would have given her identity away at this point. No other women I knew had such pearly skin, with a sort of faint attractive glow surrounding her. But her hair, her eyes! Her hair was the same shade of jet black as I'd remembered, silky and needless to say like satin to the touch. Her eyes, well, I had never defined their exact colour. They were dark, perhaps something like a cross between chestnut and sapphire, but I remember looking straight into her eyes one day several years back. I'd always remembered that look she gave me, shortly before Jacob had left. It was a look of determination, dignity…and tons more expressions I was too immature to yet comprehend. I remembered seeing spots of dark mauve in her eyes, as well as something like wine or burgundy, mixed in with all the others. Whatever it was, it was highly unusual…perhaps she had inherited her family's line of different dark eye colours.

"Oh," I managed to choke out. "Leah." I used the time that she was staring perfectly still at me to check her outfit out. She had always been fashion-conscious: a sleeveless navy top with lace trim, a tailored black pencil skirt and strappy red feminine sandals. There was a silver pendant on a thin silver chain around her neck, polished, smooth silver in the shape of a heart. My own heart clenched, thinking of Jacob. Being close to Leah, the air around her smelled a sweet aroma of rose and green apple, sort of like a classic scent of hers.

"Welcome, Renesmee," Leah said, smiling what seemed to be a sweet smile, but I could feel the glaring death rays from her dark eyes, sense her threatening presence, and I could see the frozen smile she kept through the scowls she must be hiding. "Oh, no, I'm sorry…I promised Jacob I wouldn't hurt his darling Nessie."

Before I had time to fully digest the meaning of her strange last comment, she grabbed my hand, locked her fingers around my wrist in an iron grip, and tugged me around the back of the room and down a series of steep steps, to arrive at the basement.

Leah pressed several numbers on the combination lock to the door of the grand, all-white basement. Leah's basement was unlike anything I'd ever seen. A fluffy white carpet stretched across the entire floor. In the middle of the basement living room was a glass coffee table draped with sapphire silk, and it was laden with vanilla rolls, muffins, tea, and all sorts of little treats and beverages for tea between two elegant women. Behind the table was a plush leather sofa, a perfect cross between peach and shell pink, loaded with cushions of both satin and denim, the denim ones were embroidered with sequins and sprayed with masses of glitter. In front of the table were three gigantic beanbags that looked like heaps of soft, mushy mound, one each in baby blue, aspen green, and chrome yellow. The blue and yellow ones were trimmed with burgundy lace. The high-definition plasma flat-screen television near the counter, directly in front of the beanbags, the scene looked something like an ideal party girl's sleepover setting. The curtains in each and every basement room were the same, mauve with ivory trim, with floor-to-ceiling windows.

I shall not describe all the other rooms, for that shall take too long. All I shall say is that there seemed to be a room for every function. But the question on my mind…what had ever gotten Leah so rich?

Then there were the multiple bedrooms…five, I suppose, three of them with connecting doors. The bedroom Leah assigned to me was by far the grandest and largest; though I had but asked for a small, simple room, just plainly furnished enough, perhaps with a bed and mirror would have been suitable for me. The three bedrooms with connecting doors looked exactly the same but for the paintings hanging above to the right side of the bed; Picasso and Van Gogh originals, no doubt. The fourth bedroom was slightly larger than the three, at one end of the incredibly long corridor furnished with wood panels, and at the other end was the fifth and last bedroom…mine. Leah seemed all too pleased to welcome me to my new home now, the sudden change of expression and tone she had used on me. She was so inviting.

My new bedroom had a bed with 3000-thread count silk sheets and matching pillows. They were all white, save for the blanket cover that was a deep shade of navy blue. The lace canopy above the bed was white, too, with an elaborate lace pattern that seemed to me Victorian-style.

The same kind of black television in the living room was opposite my bed on top of a wide chest of wooden drawers and pull-out cabinets. Only the curtains here were different; the layer of inner day curtains were a gentle purple, gentle like a wisp of smoke and sweet-looking like Leah's hundred-watt smile, the outer night curtains were a strong blue, strong like a stormy ocean and protective-looking like Jacob's warm arms. The bathroom was white, too, and the floor was covered by a plush, fluffy rug, only that it was not white but instead, blue, several shades lighter than the blue of the night curtains.

The aroma within the room was indescribable, but what I can say is this: it smelled like a mixture of all sweet things under the sun. Honey, green apple, flowers, milk chocolate…

Of course. All these things were sweet, and one might feel as though oneself were trapped in a fairytale, where Snow White or Cinderella might just appear…did I just use the word 'trap'?

Anyway, over the tough years, if there's anything I've learned at all, it's that things that appear sweet on the surface might not actually be sweet at all…or perhaps _too_ sweet.


	4. Tears

**A/N: Sorry, guys, haven't been updating recently…but hey, new chapter's up, isn't it? There's still a history and a physics paper waiting for me on the desk, but I managed ****to sneak in a bit of Fanfiction time. **

**So here it is…Enjoy! **

Chapter 4

I was slapped out of my reverie and into reality when I heard the bolt in the front door heave and slide open with a creaking sound, and then a key turning loudly in the lock. I turned to face Leah, and her eyes were wide with something I couldn't quite comprehend. Fear? Panic? Desperation? Stress? A combination, perhaps? Whatever it was, it made her rush up the stairs of the basement leading up to the main house and slam the door shut behind her. I ran up to the door after her, then stopped, perching just behind the door, and positioning my eyes at the keyhole in an attempt to get the best view of what was going on.

Seconds later, a man stepped into view. I believe I had never "gasped" until this moment. Both Leah and his heads turned toward the door for a moment, but Leah quickly muttered something under her breath and the pair turned to face each other. I strained my ears to hear what they were saying.

But I found I couldn't concentrate with this man just separated from me by a stupid basement door. _Jacob_.

His arms were tanned and strong as I'd remembered, his dark hair tufty and always slightly messy, which I'd always found seductive. His eyes…oh, I couldn't quite clearly see his eyes, but partially though I found that if I stooped slightly lower I would be able to see most of his left eye. Those dark, near-black eyes had captivated me for so long, so many times and could yet capture my attention again, hold me there in a swirling vortex of blissfulness that was only centered around both of us.

I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I jumped up and rushed at the doorknob. With a bit of effort I managed to pull it open and snap the knob behind me. Leah and Jacob looked up at the same time. Jacob's gaze at me was a mixture of affection and a slightly puzzled expression. but Leah was seething like…well, perhaps like she just knew she was the most beautiful woman around and had lost a beauty pageant to some pageant newbie whose hair wasn't even maintained and whose lips were thin, pale and chapped.

"Renesmee. Go. Back. To. Your. Room," Leah spoke through her teeth, breaking through the hard layers of fake smiling in front of Jacob.

"No." I stood, my knees wobbly to the ground, defying my newest landlady.

"Fine, then you may forget about moving into the house," Leah shrugged, seemingly careless. From what I could gather about myself, had Leah actually wanted me here anyway? Instructions from Jacob was one thing, but what had happened to their relationship now? Far more than I'd dreamed of ever happening, Jacob was there. Right next to me, and I could feel the heat radiating off his muscular body. Before he left, the warmth would have seemed comforting, my second home. But now the heat felt like a warning, a warning to keep off because he was some new girl's property. Some fortunate girl out there who was beautiful with glossy red lips, perfectly shining wavelets and a flawless French manicure.

"Leah-" Jacob shook his head. I couldn't hear him finish the rest of his sentence because my mind was too busy trying to digest that wonderful voice and store it in perfect condition, forever.

"Special treatment, Renesmee," Leah drawled, her full cherry-red lips stretching into a spiteful smile, then a smirk.

"Wha-what?" My head instinctively snapped up and my eyes immediately met Leah's.

"I said, special treatment," Leah repeated, rolling her eyes at me and sounding annoyed. "Jacob would never allow his precious darling Nessie to go homeless and poor on the dirty streets. So, I suppose you're going to stay here, whether I like it or not, and apparently the essence of his love for you is still there…somewhere."

"Shut up, Leah," Jacob said, punching her gently on the side of her ribs. "You know…it's not like that. She and I are just friends."

Jacob couldn't have meant that…no, no, no…I have to believe…believe that he loves me, because I gave everything to him. He must love me, because I love him more than he will ever know, more than he can ever give me…no, he mustn't. They say that if you truly love someone, you would let them go. He mustn't fall in love with me, because he is worthy of a girl better than me; he can't fall in love with me, he won't, because I'm just an insignificant ex-girlfriend who was nothing to him at all, except for a girl whom he could sling over his arm and show off to a few dirt-bike friends.

Before the pair left for who-knows-where, Leah used to tell me, _"You're nothing to Jacob at all, nothing. He told me last night that you were just a pawn to his king in this game that we humans call life. And I, of course, am his queen and he never thought of you as anything but a step on the ladder to social status climbing. Did you honestly believe that what he showed you was true affection? I must say, Renesmee, I've never expected anyone so gullible, never. Don't blame him for breaking your heart, because it's still your fault for believing everything." _

"You should go back to your room, Renesmee," Jacob spoke to me gently, nudging my shoulder. "Leah and I have some strictly private and confidential matters to discuss."

I was numb as I made my way down the steps and entering the basement, where I collapsed on top of my new bed. I had no idea how I made it that far, because as soon as I hit the bed the tears began to flow. Very faintly, in the background I could hear Leah speaking in a high-pitched voice, something like 'she's so obedient when you say it' and 'she never listens to me, her new landlady' and 'she must still have feelings for you'.

And Jacob's reply, I strained my ears and tried to control the tears long enough for me to hear:

"You honestly don't have to say anything, Leah, she doesn't have feelings for me, and neither do I for her." There was an uncomfortable silence, a short pause from Jacob perhaps, and then, "Leah. As long as they are still alive, I shall not rest-"

As long as they are still alive? Who are 'they'?

The question still in my mind, I decided I needed a bit of cheering up, so I made my way over to the side of the dresser drawer and switched on the radio. I immediately regretted this decision when I heard the DJ speak the words, but could not bring myself to turn it off.

"_Let's hear some tunes now, fantastic romantic classics that always make me cry…This is your local DJ Sara Burch, on the Banz Romance Session on DJ Hotline Live."_

_Right Here Waiting – Richard Marx _

_Goodbye to Love – Carpenters _

_He Stopped Loving Her Today – George Jones _

_My Heart Will Go On – Celine Dion _

_If Loving You Is Wrong I Don't Want to Be Right – Mandrell Barbara _

The tears came, spilling over everything. The pillows, sheets…and everything else seemed to blur in my vision. I imagined Jacob's lips on mine, but I couldn't, no, I couldn't. How long had it been since our last kiss? Very long…years, even. And how long had it been since the last kiss between Leah and himself? Just then, even if Leah had never appeared, there was no guarantee that we would have been together, anyway.

Did I resent my parents for giving birth to an ugly child? Not quite. My mother Bella had been an exquisite beauty, half-Spanish with beautiful emerald-green eyes and wavy bronze-brown hair that I'd always envied, because mine was always locked in dead tangles. My father Edward was, according to him, a heartthrob in his earlier years. And he was, really, with curly, tufty caramel hair and dark eyes which was one part olive and two parts sapphire. Perhaps something had gone wrong in the genes…okay, face it, I just wasn't born to be beautiful material. If you ever start thinking that every single random girl walking past you is much more beautiful than you, then it's either you underestimate yourself, or you're not as pretty-girl style as you think.

I parted the curtains in my room and looked out the window, not to stare at the sweet garden Leah maintained, but to let my eyes wander aimlessly around the terrain beyond.

I got up and shuffled my way out of the basement, wanting to go out of the house to take a breath of fresh air, and saw…

**So, dear readers, make a guess, what did Renesmee see? **

**Like I always say…**

**Like your meal, leave a tip, like the fanfic, leave a review! **


	5. Believe

Chapter 5

…and saw Jacob and Leah, sprawled out on the enormous plush-leather couch behind the series of steps and the high-legged wooden table that separated the basement from the part of the main house.

Nothing would have caused such angst, horror and pain in my heart that latched in my throat and bestowing me with the disability to speak than Jacob's fingers running smoothly over Leah's breasts.

As I stared at the scene before me that must have been a pleasurable and joyful one for the happy couple and the splintering of a heart for me, the shadow I cast hovered like an eerie ex above Jacob. Both heads snapped up at the same time but would only see the back of my head as I fled the room without so much as an 'ohmigod'.

Why wasn't anything happening nowadays a good one for me? Why couldn't anyone see the shredded pieces of my broken heart on the floor and piece them back up for me? Why did my family have to get torn apart? Why did Jacob have to leave with that hateful but beautiful woman Leah? Why did Grandma Esme and Aunt Alice have to get killed? Why was I even Renesmee, the girl I was now?

Why?

Because, in my family, I had been brought up to believe that nothing was, ever, a coincidence. One of Grandpa Carlisle's favourite lines were: _"Nothing happens by chance. Nothing is a coincidence. Life is what you make of it, and everything else has already been predetermined by destiny even before one was born."_

I grabbed my favourite novel off the table and spun the knob on the main door (it wasn't locked) and fled the house, my feet automatically taking flight to help me escape to my second safe haven under the sun apart from Jacob's arms: a secret little meadow in the heart of the Forks Forest, a dense forest filled with trees. There were few birds in that forest, unlike those you would expect to see in the Amazon on a much larger scale, of course. The Forks Forest was quiet, and unusually peaceful for a forest, but you had to beware. Occasionally, there would be sightings of a few more dangerous animals, such as a wolf, for example, or a black bear.

My meadow remained peaceful and beautiful, as usual. The forest was definitely not a place for tourists, or for those unfamiliar with that area. It was, rather, more for locals, or for people such as me, who had been regularly visiting the forest throughout my childhood and even afterwards. I saw it as my safe haven, which I have mentioned above, a place for me to just sit down beneath the tall tree and arrange my thoughts. It had also been a place for me to pen down words in my diary, which I have ceased to keep since I turned fifteen a few years ago, or jot down a few poems or ideas that just come to my mind.

The meadow is a beautiful image, especially in the spring. Now, revisiting it, it's just as I've remembered, the scenery: the beautiful, colourful wildflowers blending in with the comparatively plain, tall blades of grass with dew shining atop every morning; the tall tree with its lush green leaves and majestic-looking branches seeming like a shelter for me.

I sat down and stared at the cover of my very favourite novel that Grandma Esme had gotten me: _Carlos and Violet: A Tale of Romance_, by bestselling author Nahuel Frank.

I slowly turned the pages until I got to page 138, my favourite page.

_The clearing was, by far, the best place for a romantic date. He picks up a blade of baby's breath and gently caresses her cheek. She smiles and lets out a soft giggle; sounding like a thousand sleigh-silver bells chiming in a high-pitched melody. _

_The day is misty; but quite as much so a magical feeling envelopes the entire clearing and the willow tree, with its sorrowful drooping branches. The couple is in a world of bliss where the only other person who exists there is each other…It's a fairytale world. Nothing could ever separate them now, not in this moment of happiness and utter bliss that they both hope can last for an eternity. _

_Then, all of a sudden, the ground heaves and tears itself apart as a giant fountain-like structure surfaces from the earth. It is a beautiful translucent silver, with seven enormous rosy-round pearls set atop the topmost level of the seven layers of this strange but beautiful fountain. The bottom two layers shine, the first inlaid with silver and the second inlaid with gold. The third, fourth and fifth layers spout glistening, crystal-clear water like a regular fountain. The sixth and seventh layers are inlaid with jewels of all kinds- emerald, sapphire, amethyst, topaz, onyx, moonstone, lapis lazuli, and all the precious gemstones of the earth. _

_The seven pearls each have a small opening within itself, and from that opening spouts mist, each in one of the different colours of the rainbow. The cooling, freshening mist envelopes the couple and surrounds them in a world of fantasy and joy. _

_A splinter of crystal breaks into Violet's palm and she looks up to see-_

I abruptly stop reading. This is the part where the abusive millionaire Violet is engaged to, Hersten Stans-Tzerschzel, finds Violet and her secret lover, Carlos, in their private clearing. This is the worst part, the part I don't want to read. The main reason I don't read it is because I want the image of the perfect couple in their beautiful clearing to stay in my mind forever, so that I can picture it once and hope that one day, Jacob and I can be like that, too.

And, just like how teachers select model pupils, Violet and Carlos would be the perfect example of a model couple, and I would try hard not to stray from that example. Unfortunately, life isn't Hollywood and not all romances have fairytale-like endings, where the prince married the princess and they lived happily ever after.

What's the purpose of living, anyway, when your lover is in love with another, better girl, much better in every aspect than you could possibly be?

When you simply can't get over that lover, even if he tortures you and your heart?

When you've given everything, your heart, your soul, your _self_ to that one man?

When you can't decide, simply can't decide, who do you follow?

Your mind, the most rational part of your body, telling you that this man isn't worth it at all. _Move on, Renesmee Carlie Cullen. Can't you just face it that he's gotten over your loser style? If he can get over you, why can't you get over him? _

Your heart, the most emotional part of your body, telling you that somewhere, deep down in his heart, he still loves you, cares for you, and that you should be patient. _You've got so many better virtues and qualities than that jealous ex-girlfriend-so why should you back off and give up? Be patient, Nessie. You are ever dear to him, for he loves you so. _

So…

I did truly feel like believing my heart. I did want to believe, strongly, that Jacob still loved me. Have I mentioned that before already? There's a bond tying him and I together, as one, that's a mystery; completely unexplainable. I can't describe this feeling in words, but it's a connection, not in the form of thick, heavy metal chains but we're connected through our hearts and minds even though our relationship has long ended.

He's ruined me by coming back. Did they plan this together? Had he known that Leah would bring me home? Or did Leah do it deliberately to cause both of us pain? I wouldn't ever know, because I would long be numb…with death.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, even though I'd love to. Oh, but the story plot is mine. **

**I was thinking of changing the names of the Twilight characters and entering this story in a Teen Fiction Writing Contest. Please review and tell me if this story is worth it! **


	6. Cliff

Chapter 6

**A/N: You might realize some similarities between this chapter and the part in New Moon where Bella goes cliff diving. Yes, I'll admit that I got a bit of inspiration from that part, but there **_**are**_** differences and the ending will be slightly different, with Nessie's new decision…**

**Enjoy!**

Haven't you heard of it? If you ever visit the area around Forks, there's one place you have to see, for the more adventurous, sporty type. Beyond the hills behind Jasmine Beach is a sort of secret and yet not-so-secret place, but beautiful as dark beauty can be.

There are three cliffs, jagged shadows against the backdrop of the now-stormy purple sky. I hurried along with Nahuel's novel still clutched in my hand; this is the perfect time, the perfect place. You won't find a better combination anywhere else.

The branches of the great weeping willow tree were starting to sway in the building-up breeze.

The wind has reached its climax as I scrambled onto the piece of rough gray rock leading up to the highest and roughest of the three cliffs. They're meant for cliff diving, but that's not what I had in mind that day.

I screamed aloud in exhilaration as I stood atop the mountain-like cliff. The rain started to fall just then, soaking the thin paperback in my hand and the easily comfortable T-shirt-and-jeans ensemble that I was wearing. Had I gone mental…?

Who cared about me anyway? I carelessly hitched my left leg up the larger piece of rock at my side and swung my other arm back to toss my favourite novel in the sea. The gentle, blue rippling waves had gone and in their place were angry pitch-black tides.

I laughed a bitter, humorless laugh. The howling wind tore my voice away from me and hurled them into the swirling tide beneath me and into the dark unknown territory of the underwater abyss that would soon become my freezing tomb. Nobody need ever find my body. I would simply go missing, just like a haunting memory that would fade away with the passing of time.

I switched off my brain. Nobody was up here with me, nobody to witness. Even then, nobody who cared. Ever since the death of Grandma Esme and Aunt Alice, there hadn't been anyone who had truly cared about me. Not Leah, definitely not. Not Jacob, the ex-lover whom I had waited so long for. Sebastian was totally out of the question.

Rolling up on the balls of my feet, I allowed myself one last look at the earth, at the horizon that lay beyond that seemingly endless sea. That horizon shone bright, like a possible future, full of new hopes and dreams, endless possibilities, with promises of starting a new life. That horizon was far away, and getting even further by the second, as I pondered my options. A distant dream, just like the dream of Jacob and I had become.

I plastered my best smile on my face. At least, if I was going to die, I would die a happy woman. Okay…at least, appearing happy enough on the outside, since nobody would guess or bother to guess my true feelings at my time of death if I was well and truly dead.

One look at the furious black-and-purple currents beneath my feet changed my expression to one of horror as I prepared to make my jump, the final jump that would end my life. I would be lucky to die in the midst of my fall. Upon impact, it was rumored, the water stabbed at all parts of your body like a sharp blade of a silver polished knife. The water was hell icy, and if it was freezing there you'd die in a matter of seconds. Hypothermia, it appeared.

I took a step backwards and launched myself into the air. My feet curled up automatically behind my back and I felt myself falling as the side of my finger brushed against the edge of the jagged rock and grazed the skin.

In that moment I heard panicked footsteps rushing behind me, yet they were strong and sure at the same time. I recognized those footsteps without having to turn and look, the only person who would have made me stop. Then again, I was probably already dead. They say your life flashes before you just at your moment of death…the good times, the bad times. This was my life flashing before me, the time when Jacob was _mine_.

But now I could hear him calling my name, as clearly as a ringing sleigh-bell. _A dream? A vision of the dead? It couldn't be. It seems so real…but then again, they give you the best moments of your life before you die, right? Something to tide you through if you ever feel lonely in your next life. _

"Renesmee, no!" He shouted as I watched his feet lift up and off in the air, propelling his entire body toward me. I didn't know why I could still watch him in this way, this view. Shouldn't I be dead already?

But this isn't death; it can't be. How can it be when I could feel, so vividly, his fingers reaching out to grasp mine and barely making it, brushing against my skin and missing my torso as I went down to meet the force of gravity?

Subconsciously I reach out my hand towards him and he scrambles frantically for it. More than half his torso is already lying out of the cliff face; he might very easily fall. I warn him, but that voice is not mine. That voice is smooth as silk and rich as velvet, that voice belongs to a woman far more beautiful than I, that voice is perfect. Glancing down at myself in shock I realize that my skin has turned a flawless, creamy white, and my hair is, for once, free of tangles. It flows in soft bronze curls past my shoulders and down my back. I blink my eyes and find them reflected in Jacob's melting dark ones. They are a shockingly pale, ice blue, deep in their crystal-like beauty, framed with long lush eyelashes and fitted together with full cherry-red lips on a perfect heart-shaped face.

_This isn't me. Who _is _this? Has death transformed me into a stranger? _

Wondering about the numerous times I'd wished for beauty like Leah's, to make fair competition…now I have it, but this isn't me. I want myself back, the real Renesmee, the stubborn, plain Renesmee with tangled curls and a lopsided smile.

I struggle to keep my eyes open and the horrifically unfolding scene before me is shocking in the revelation it brings. That beautiful girl was Renesmee, all right, just not _me_, in the being that I was now, in my old, ugly form. That girl had been Renesmee in her past and her future. That girl had been Renesmee at the best point in her life, the potential person I could have become, if given the chance.

Why had I understood this, all of a sudden? It seemed as though I would have preferred _not_ to understand, though. And now, here I was, watching from the point of view of a stranger close to death, in the eyes of the old Renesmee. The scene before me was, really, portraying the beauty of the youth I could have become, a future with Jacob I had once only dreamed of. It wasn't coming true, all right. Definitely not. Was that scene supposed to inspire me or cause me pain? I wasn't sure. Did I even _want_ to know? Death seemed an unavoidable thing now, something the future had to hold. My future was bleak, any promise completely desolate. I was lost.

The scene before me slowly faded into empty nothingness and I was engulfed into an endless portal of black, gray and white. I could, still, faintly hear Jacob's panicked, frantic voice yelling at someone in the background. I would leave this world, leave him with his beautiful young Renesmee, a life I would not live to enjoy.

After what must have been hours, I woke to the conscious world. My body was numb; I could only feel my fingers, icy cold, and Jacob's familiar yet strangely unfamiliar warm breath on my face, on my forehead.

"Nessie?" I heard him ask. Mmm…_am I not dead yet?_

I tried to answer him, or make any indication that I had heard him, but failed miserably. _Jacob, _I wanted to shout back desperately. _My Jacob. _With all the strength in my numb, lifeless body, I tried to raise my hand. That failed, too, and I was bitterly disappointed.

"Did her fingers just twitch?" Jacob murmured. I felt movement beside my body and then the fragrance of a fruity, fresh feminine perfume.

"I wouldn't bother so much about that girl if I were you," a woman said in a warning tone, and I bleakly remembered her as Leah Clearwater…who was she? At this moment all that was running about in my senseless, fuzzy brain was Jacob.

I remembered Leah as a beautiful woman…and how had she come into my life? She had connections to Jacob. She was worthy of him in a way I would never deserve. Leah…_Oh. _Disappointment, anger and resentment at myself tore through my body like a dangerous hurricane. She was…a fiend, not a friend. She was my rival. I didn't deserve someone like her to be my rival. Surely Jacob should see how outstandingly beautiful she was, even more so when compared to my messy, shapeless figure? I was, again, disappointed that the one person who had come to me in my subconscious state apart from Jacob was someone whom I could not trust, someone whom I had to fight against to be with Jacob. Then again, I would rather die than see Jacob love Leah and be with her.

Jacob was _not_, in fact, mine, and even though the thought of not being able to have him was depressing, it was not a fresh line of thought. Just something to add to my list of impossible fantasies, most of which included Jacob. Another fantasy, I might as well add, was that Leah could be gone or migrate or something and our family could reunite again. That, I had to admit, was even more far-fetched than any of my Jacob-related fantasies. At least Jacob was here. His presence, his being alive and near me gave me my reason for living…still.

But in truth, Grandma Esme and Aunt Alice was dead. Their eyes would never blink again. Their hearts would never beat again. Their lungs would never inhale again…Bella was far away with her secret lover, the tall, fair-haired man. I imagined my joy if she would return to us upon his death, but that would have hurt her too and, even though she had played a crucial part in destroying the family, she was, after all, my biological mother. Her blood ran in my veins. Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and the unwilling, reluctant Edward had left long ago as well.

As in my state of sub-consciousness, I pictured my Aunt Rosalie, who was still a young woman when she left. She was the youngest child Grandma Esme had borne, and, since Edward was the eldest, she was only a mere fifteen years old when I was born. Beautiful, bright and golden-haired, we would spend entire afternoons in her room, entertaining ourselves with games of dress-up. Then she would tie my bronze hair into millions of thin, tiny braids, and joke about some random neighbour… Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper had never been close to me. Even though we lived under the same roof, there was little interaction between us.

Uncle Emmett had once been a professional wrestler, but as the popular culture of wrestlers, never used his name Emmett Cullen. He had immensely powerful muscles, and strength had always been his main selling point, as beauty had been Aunt Rosalie's. In the wrestling world, he was known as Lightning. Few people, except his family and close friends, knew his real name.

Then there was Uncle Jasper, who was a man always with his composure, steady, calm, and cool. A certain charisma about him drew people towards him, almost like there was a magnetic force pulling them. I put him on the top of my mental list of the family member I found unknown the most.

Grandpa Carlisle was a doctor; or rather, he had been. Before all the abuse he had seemed to be a good man; good enough. How different my viewpoint was now. He was tall and lean, with both a nimble mind and a nimble body. He was a man with unique political views; and, now that I had slowly begun to realize, a man who did not see for others' suffering but on the path towards his own success, his own future.

My eyes opened abruptly, and I found myself staring into an agonized sea of black. Jacob leaned back, away from me, and the agony in his eyes vanished almost completely. Beside him was Leah Clearwater, my rival, and beside Leah was a girl I'd never met before.

The girl was beautiful. Her riveting, impressive beauty struck me in a new light. Her beauty was there something to equal Leah's. No, Leah's beauty was plainly for that pretty face she had so cherished, but this girl's beauty was unlike hers, although not in the beauty-pageant-model-with-eyelash-extensions-and-tons-of-makeup way.

How can I begin to describe her? She had long, very straight platinum blonde hair, hanging in silky lengths straight down to her waist. Her eyes were the clearest sapphire, passionate and understanding. She wore a sleeveless white dress, which was presently dripping wet, and a stack of multicoloured bracelets pushed up her arm. Her hair was quite damp and a few streaks of water ran across her pale face.

"Nessie, this is Rachel Zane-Whitley. She was around the area when you…er, _fell_ and helped me bring you back to Leah's house," Jacob introduced politely, obviously knowing very well that my drop from the cliff hadn't been an accident.

"It's a pleasure to meet you…Renesmee," Rachel told me, smiling. "Your name certainly is one of a kind."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Rachel. I'm really sorry you had to trouble yourself in the rain to help me like that. You shouldn't have…" I grimaced at the memory of the cliff.

"Oh!" Rachel laughed it off like saving a potentially mental, drenched girl was something she did every day. "No matter. I don't say it was much of a trouble, even though I have no idea how a decent-looking girl as you should find interest upon a dangerous cliff."

Before I could speak, Leah cut in: "Our dear Renesmee here isn't exactly your idea of a decent girl, I suppose, Rachel. She does things one would never expect. Though, I guess that's due to her rather complicated past." Leah sighed dramatically and shook her head as though genuinely worried about me. "It's amazing what personal family matters can cause to the average human mind, isn't it?"

"Leah, that's enough," Jacob said in a voice a little unnecessarily harsh. Sure, a painful comment, but what else was to be expected of Leah? It wasn't as though I'd expected her to be at my every beck and call when I moved into her guesthouse. And, what was well to be admitted anyway, Leah was sort of right.

"It's true, isn't it?" Leah sneered at me, knowing she had won.

I couldn't bring myself to answer her. All I _did_ manage in the end, was to stutter weakly: "You can say anything you like."

I looked to Rachel to judge her response, but her expression was incomprehensible; to me, at least. Leah seemed to pick up something in the firm, determined way Rachel set her mouth in that she disliked.

"Well," Rachel finally spoke after a long, awkward silence, "it's been nice meeting you today, Renesmee, Jacob, and…_Leah_." Rachel was unusually calm, and she spoke as though it was just a casual, simple meeting and not some life-and-death saving she had done. What amazed me even more was how she spat out the name _Leah_ in her last word as though it was venom on her tongue.

"And it's been interesting to meet you, _Rachel_," Leah spat back. Funny how she used the word 'interesting' instead of the usual 'my pleasure' or 'nice' or whatsoever.

Rachel pressed a signed card into my palm. "Let's keep in contact, Renesmee, I think you're the fairly nice person I've met today."

I smiled. For some reason a part of me took instant liking to the blonde girl. "Thanks, Rachel." Then, after a moment's pause, I added: "And, in the future, just call me Nessie."


	7. Stop

Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry people for not updating so long. Hope you like the new character introduced, Rachel, because I do like her too. I didn't know what to do for her name so I just used Jake's sister's name. As usual, this chapter's in our dear little Nessie's POV. Enjoy! :D **

A few days after the horrible incident at the cliff, resulting in my making a new friend in Rachel, she contacted me and asked me whether I would mind if she came over for a short visit.

Knowing that Leah would never let me hear the end of it if I allowed someone else inside her house without her permission, I requested for Rachel's patience and hung up.

I exited the basement and immediately smelled a refreshing, mint-and-apple perfume fragrance. I smiled to myself, as that was clearly Leah's perfume and I could just trace it to find out her whereabouts, knowing it would take forever to search every room in this enormous mansion. It reminded me of a vampire romance novel I had once read entitled _Twilight_, in which the vampires tracked the scent of their human prey with their inhuman sense of smell.

I found Leah sitting on the apple-green chaise by the window in one of her many functional and personal rooms, flipping silently and aimlessly through the glossy pages of a new fashion magazine. Her manner was bored and lazy, and I could tell that she'd sensed my presence even though she hadn't once looked up or acknowledged that fact in any other way.

"Um, Leah?" I asked timidly, not knowing how else to begin. Jacob was not at home (at work, I suppose, even if I never clarified specifically what kind of job that was. He had seemed rather angry when he'd left the house this morning. Angry enough for violence as he had roughly pushed the dining chair into the dining table, causing the entire glass table to shake, and slamming the door forcefully behind him)

"Renesmee. Speak." Leah did not meet my gaze. She was still staring intently at the magazine, as though waiting impatiently for me to pounce eagerly into her deadly poisoned trap.

"Leah," I began in an unsure tone, "as you're my landlady and all I feel that I would ask your permission as a form of respect before-"

Leah interrupted me in an expressionless, stony voice: "I'm not your landlady, okay? Don't ever go around telling people that you're my tenant. When Dad died of a heart attack early and Mom died of suicidal grief a month later they left Seth and me with more than enough to support ourselves and live a life of luxury for nine lives. I wouldn't want others to know that I keep a dirty tenant like you. It's for Jacob's sake that I keep you here with a roof over your head and food on the table because I love him and he would be really pissed if you didn't foster well under my care. I consider myself to be a part-time babysitter because you don't appear in good mental shape to get to work yourself. Not that _I'll_ have to work anyway because of the fortune I inherited."

I forced myself to regain my composure but couldn't keep my reaction to her snide comments off of my face. She obviously noticed it and smirked deliberately in my direction.

"You know," Leah continued, not bothering to wait for my response, "I really can't understand why Jacob puts so much effort and patience into you. Of course, surely he has to see that you can't ever possibly hold a candle to me?" I shrank noticeably, not wanting a reminder of that painful fact. "So, you came here to ask me something. As your un-landlady I must tell you that you are free to bring any bitch or bastard beggar into my house AS LONG as you keep him or her safely in the basement, out of my view, and do not disturb any of the activities that Jacob or I might be peacefully engaging in. You should be satisfied, should you not, that a normal landlady should not grant you as much freedom as I am doing to you now? I am prepared to give you anything in exchange for Jacob's affection, if you are willing. Money and other forms of property do not mean anything to me if I can afford to keep beauty and Jacob by my side."

Leah reached out and tapped her long, claw-like bloodred fingernails underneath my chin. Her touch was icy cold and dripping with venom. "Of course, Renesmee sweetheart, what I want are the things you'll never have. Beauty and Jacob are the things you'll never have."

I turned away from Leah and fled the room. As I did so I could just hear Leah's soft chuckles behind me and I escaped to my safe haven, my temporary bedroom in Leah's guesthouse. I couldn't possibly depend on her forever like that. Even then, I didn't particularly have a safe haven now that my bedroom, what had to be considered the most private, personal and favourite room in a person's life, belonged to my enemy. So, then, the safe haven I had discovered in Jacob's arms would have belonged to Leah someday as well…I was lost.

I dialed Rachel's number on my mobile. She picked up on the first ring.

Before I could even start on the usual greetings that was the polite way to go, Rachel's eager voice chirped cheerfully, "So?"

"Yes," I told her truthfully. I could hear the smile in her voice and couldn't resist a smile of my own. Rachel's smile and laughter was highly contagious.

"I suppose you had to ask the bitch," Rachel said, and I detected an unpleasantly bitter, dark tone in her voice. I wouldn't put it past her to refer to Leah as 'the bitch', anyhow.

"I don't see why you hate her so much," I replied nonchalantly, trying to switch to a more pleasant subject.

Rachel seemed genuinely surprised. "But don't you?"

"Well…" That was hard to say, considering that Leah had given me food and shelter after all, even if she gave me a hard time by doing so. "I suppose I wouldn't say she and I were friends, but I don't resent her the way I _should_. She is, after all, the person who gives me food and shelter, even if she doesn't give me a good time and is practically my archrival."

Rachel laughed. "Nessie, if I were you, I'd hate her with the core of my soul. I know what she says to you, what she does to you, and that's rather not nice, isn't it? I can't believe anyone doesn't hate her from the way she is. Jacob's really blind, I must say. Any guy would have picked you in a second without hesitation, without any dilemma. Boy, was she really pissed at me yesterday, and of course it wasn't hard to guess what had happened between you guys."

"You're a good reader."

Rachel replied innocently, "That's what my mom always says." She paused for a brief moment, then suggested, "how about eleven on Saturday?"

I started to smile. "That'll be perfect."

At eleven o' clock sharp on an unusually bright Saturday morning in Forks Rachel arrived at the house, as promised. We went down to my room.

Rachel and I sat around on my bed and talked for a bit. "Tell me more about you," I asked Rachel, curling a stray lock of my bronze hair around my index finger.

Rachel, of course, was prettier than I'd seen her on the day we met (well, at least she wasn't soaking wet from the rain). She was wearing a soft cotton sapphire-coloured minidress to match her eyes, with gray tights beneath and black ballet pumps which she'd left by the doorway. Her amazing blonde hair was, as usual, kept loose and cascading down her shoulders and back. I had no idea how she kept hair of such length smooth and perfectly tangle- and frizz-free.

I suddenly realized how appallingly pale and unattractive I looked beside _any_ girl, not just the supermodels like Leah, or the passionate beauties like Rachel, simply _any_ girl. Everything about me spelled _unattractive, ugly, plain, horrible, unfeminine, unladylike…_all those words that would be a girl's worst nightmare. Was it my always-tangled messy bronze hair, my dull and lifeless brown eyes, and my pale and chapped lips? Was it my unfashionable style, my plain clothing, and my small wardrobe? Was it my stubborn personality, my unladylike ways and my strange behaviors and manner?

I believed I would have seemed a freak to anyone, and I didn't blame Leah for making that fact known to me. In fact, I should have _thanked_ her, and Rachel was kind enough already as a beautiful girl who had become friends with a potentially mental freak.

"Well…" Rachel shrugged in response to my question, "there's really nothing much to say, Nessie. Let's see…my parents, sister and I live in a two-storey house near the centre of Stormcliff Bay. It's that sparsely populated area behind the cliffs where I first saw you that day. There really aren't many people who live there, so you get lots of privacy. A good thing, I guess, apart from when you're screaming for help and no-one can hear you."

"I'm turning twenty this year. My sister is named Rhetta, and we're total opposites. She's a typical glassy-green-eyed redhead while I'm blonde with sapphire eyes. Her hair's naturally curly, you know, and I maintain mine straight. Rhetta is going to be eighteen this year, and she is the captain of the senior volleyball team. Rhetta is, like, _really_ sporty, but basically she enjoys all outdoor activities, and has a serious addiction to volleyball and suntanning. While I enjoy reading, shopping, writing and so on, Rhetta can't find a single moment to stay indoors. She's just got a scholarship to study in England next year, and will only come back during the holidays, so I guess I won't be seeing her as much anymore. I do think I'm way more practical and she's, you know, really into those astrology things and stuff. I'll miss her when she goes to England."

Rachel smiled a small, wistful smile, and then continued, "Now enough about Rhetta. My mom works in the fashion industry, and she's really particular about the image we impress on others when we go out. That's why sometimes she comes over and helps us with our outfits for the day, and in some way it's good, I guess, because you don't have to worry about not wearing parent-approved outfits. My dad works as a chef in the Royal Diamond Hotel, and apart from having a fashion-critic mom you also get a gourmet foodie dad as being part of the package that comes with being a Zane-Whitley family daughter. He complains a lot about being the only male in the house, the odd one out, the only one who can cook well, the only one without fashion sense, and so on. I love him, he's my father, after all, but sometimes he gets real annoying. He gets on my nerves with all that complaining and I just wish that he'd shut up for once." Rachel sighed in exasperation.

"Hey, I mean, you're lucky enough to have a mom and a dad, and a sister in your own house, nice and warm with your family to love you," I said, trying to keep the teasing note in my voice but failing. Memories of my old home came flooding back to me and overwhelmed my feelings.

Rachel raised a curious eyebrow. "Tell me about your situation," she said, clearly pressing for answers. "Tell me about how it seems that your happy family paradise had been gone and lost."

And so I told her.

"God, you must have had such a hard time!" Rachel exclaimed, falling back onto my pillow. "I was wrong to have complained about my father like that. Sorry to have caused you any pain. I can't believe how you lived through that whole process, knowing your family and your life would never be the same again, knowing everything that was dear to you would be gone."

I bit my lip and tried to smile at my friend through the tears that threatened to spill over my eyelids. "Yeah, it's fine. You didn't know. I'm really envious of those who can say they have a happy family with confidence as though it's going to last forever. If there was some way to bring back all my family members and make them see reason, I'd do it."

Rachel's eyes were far away; she was deep in thought. Then she seemed abruptly brought back to earth as she searched for a subject to change to. "Let me look at your wardrobe," Rachel said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have a feeling I'll have to get you a new wardrobe."

Thanks to Leah, my room sported an enormous walk-in wardrobe. Rachel flung open the door and tugged me inside.

The north wall was entirely covered by a full floor-to-ceiling mirror with different adjustable lights above it, and a panel of buttons next to it. The south and east walls were caved-in shelves with double-layered racks to hang clothes on. An irregular rack with display boxes to put all one's shoes in dominated the west wall.

Rachel started sifting through the few sets of clothes I had, folded up and placed in the corner of the southern rack. She turned to me after a few minutes and shook her head disappointedly.

"We'll order pizza for lunch and then I'm taking you shopping," Rachel whispered disapprovingly, her diamond-drop earrings swinging back and forth. "Nessie, I know you'll hate me for saying this, but you can't possibly want to snare a man with _those_ clothes on, can you? I'm getting you a new wardrobe and then all those old sweatpants and faded hoodies go in the bin."

Rachel wouldn't let me protest and insist otherwise as we talked over pizza in my bedroom.

After we had safely discarded the pizza cardboard boxes, Rachel took me outside to where her black Mercedes was parked off the front porch. She started the engine, spun round off the driveway, and hit the road.

We were headed for the Canthacey District, twenty miles off the borders of Jasmine Beach. Canthacey District was the hottest, most popular shopping district you could find around Forks. A cluster of malls stood around cafes, restaurants, and Internet gaming shops.

"Rachel, you should know that I don't have the money to pay for anything here," I hissed at her, upon seeing the rows of designer shops lining both wings of the first mall we went into, Canthacey Hotshot.

"Don't worry, Renesmee," Rachel whispered back to me. "I'll pay." She flashed her glossy black American Express card at me.

"What?" I stopped in my tracks, shocked and startled. "You can't! I won't let you pay for my expenses. Fine, if you want to pay with your credit card, then just take it as I'm accompanying you here. Go ahead and shop." I'd worn my most respectable outfit to the Canthacey District to avoid embarrassment and shame; which consisted of dark brown pants, bright pink hoodies and the pair of sandals Aunt Alice had given me when I was slightly younger.

"If you don't let me pay, I'll tell Jacob that…well, let's just say that I'm going to be telling him things that you will regret very much." Rachel shot me a dagger look. "Also, you depend on Leah Clearwater for all your food and accommodation expenses, don't you? If you can depend on her like that then why can't I pay for much more minor things such as your clothing?" Rachel definitely wasn't taking 'no' for an answer today; she started pulling me along the mall as she talked.

We both stopped short automatically when we saw who was just in front of us, facing us.

Jacob stopped dead in his tracks when he saw us, too. His gaze was mainly focused on me but would occasionally drift to stare into Rachel's now-intense, sharp sapphire eyes. He was just a couple of feet away from me.

Behind him came the loud click clacking of high heels and then Leah caught up with him. Her dark eyes wandered aimlessly and innocently among Jacob, Rachel, and I, but I knew she was looking for something. Staring straight at me now, she pressed her bloodred fingernails onto Jacob's tanned arm and leaned upwards to whisper into his ear, her glossy red lips just inches from his…


	8. Forgive

Chapter 8

Nessie POV

I couldn't help the jealous thoughts running through my mind. Apart from all the "sweetie act" pretense Leah gave me in front of Jacob, she was even more of a bitch than Rachel had described. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Rachel glowering at Leah.

Leah leaned away from Jacob and was immediately challenged by Rachel with a glowering contest. Jacob appeared lost for words, as was I, and his black eyes drifted from Leah, Rachel, and then back to me. I bit my lip in slight apprehension as I pondered my next move, half of which I really felt like doing but couldn't bring myself to. For example, running right over and kissing Jake full on the lips as though he was my long-term boyfriend already, or getting myself into a dirty catfight with Leah.

Finally I made up my mind with the safest choice. I strode over a few steps to where Rachel had moved to block Leah's straight path, and tugged impatiently on her arm like a kid begging her to go.

Leah pulled Jake close to her again and whispered something into his ear, to which he didn't immediately respond and then slowly shook his head. Rachel was still glaring at Leah, her sapphire eyes more intense than ever, as we stalked off (or, rather, she stalked off and I slouched).

By the end of the afternoon, Rachel had successfully talked me into buying a ton of stuff that could last me for my entire life and even beyond. She'd bought twenty tops, twelve bottoms, seventeen accessories including barrettes and bags, and six pairs of shoes.

"Are you sure your parents won't mind?" I asked nervously as we got into her car and prepared to drive home.

Rachel ignited the engine, snorted and rolled her eyes at me. "Of course they won't! Mom will be all too happy that I'm finally "following in her footsteps" and becoming a "fashion advisor" for my friend. Dad will be too tired, busy _and_ lazy to care. Financial issues and other money-related problems aren't exactly the main happenings in our family, since you've got a fashion designer and a chef."

"Do you _want_ to work in the fashion industry? I mean, getting a job isn't all those years away since you're already twenty now, right?" I picked at the hem of my bright pink hoodie.

Rachel considered my question for a moment. "I haven't exactly thought of it before. When I was young, much younger, I dreamed of becoming a _supermodel_!" She laughed, as though at the absurdity of that aspiration, but I felt otherwise. A girl as beautiful as Rachel was shouldn't have had any problem becoming a top supermodel, anyhow. I was about to voice that opinion when she continued speaking.

"Now, I realize I quite enjoy getting into the fashion way of things. Maybe I'll take over my mother's fashion store when I'm slightly older. Well, anyway, Rhetta's the more studious one out of the two of us and she's already expressed disinterest in fashion, much to Mom's disapproval. She says she thinks of becoming a professional volleyball player. It's strange, though, unusual for a girl to be interested in sports and outdoor activities while she's studious and way smart." Rachel frowned out the windshield as gray clouds darkened the sky and pouring rain began to fall.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I found myself asking on impulse.

Rachel seemed surprised at my question. "Well, no, but I myself have broken up a couple of times. I find myself quite lucky, in fact, because I'm not the type of girl who is really emotional; you know that kind. I get over those boys, but I told you that Rhetta is the exact opposite of me, and she's more emotional, she doesn't get over ex-boyfriends that easily, _especially_ if they have a new girlfriend right after they broke up with her. But I'm glad for Rhetta now. She has a steady boyfriend named James and says he's the best boyfriend on earth. Oh, well…"

"Hmmm…" I hummed softly, unable to think of another suitable answer.

When we arrived back at Leah's house, Rachel and I took turns in holding the umbrella as the other struggled to heap the shopping bags onto her arm and get them safely indoors. Jacob and Leah had already arrived home. Leah was sprawled out untidily on the big couch watching TV. Jacob was nowhere to be seen, but I assumed he was home because I saw his brown leather jacket hanging on the hook in the corner of the hallway.

Rachel and I spent the rest of the evening arranging my new clothes and accessories in my walk-in wardrobe.

Halfway through, we started to hear Leah's signature high heels clicking in the doorway. In a few moments' time she swiftly unlatched the basement door and walked into my closet.

I stopped in the middle of my task to freeze-stare at Leah, a white silk blouse still draped over my left arm. Rachel dropped a pair of shoes into a basket and turned to stare at Leah as well.

Leah smirked. "Had I known I would have received such a warm welcome upon coming in," she remarked casually, taking in the room she was enclosed in with two of her enemies. Over my time shopping with Rachel, I had learned true fashion and good taste. Boy, if I was right, looking at Leah was like looking at fashion straight in the eye. I wondered if Rachel was thinking the same thing, too. A white cropped top underneath a black semi-blazer and a splash of colour added with the obviously-self-customized red length trim and a black vintage skirt, topping off the look with a vintage leather bag and leopard-print fuzz flats.

"Going out again?" I asked, trying to sound as casual and cool as she had sounded.

Leah smiled at me; a sweet smile on the surface with hidden daggers beneath it. "Yes," she replied in a mockingly breathless voice, "with _Jacob_."

I gasped, and my breath began to hitch in my throat. Before either Rachel or I could pull off a clever comeback, Leah said snidely, "Haven't the little twits gone shopping again?"

Rachel pursed her lips, then said comfortably, "And hasn't the puny bitch made a mistake again? You can't _possibly_ be referring to such beautiful, fashion-forward women as _twits_, can you?"

Leah laughed. "Oh, yes, I can. For anyone in the right mind to call _me_ a puny bitch can't be in the right mind. They've certainly gone mental, in my opinion." She paused, and then added, "And if you can ever say that bright pink hoodies with dark brown pants are _fashion-forward_, the fashion world would be in total turmoil."

Just then Jacob appeared at our door. "Leah, are you _ready_?" He asked impatiently. One, he sounded so eager to go out with her…I hated to think the possibility of a _date_, where they would go out to some couple-favored restaurant and eat while having kisses and sweet whispers all the way. Two, he didn't once look in my direction when I was so desperately searching, trying to get him to meet my gaze.

"Oh, yes," Leah said sweetly. I didn't miss the dagger gaze she gave us before turning her back, and surely neither did Rachel. "I was just lecturing those two twits on the importance of fashion and making a good impression on others."

Rachel was about to make a protest to Leah's false claim, but I quickly stopped her. "Don't," I whispered softly, that Leah and Jacob could not hear me. "It'll just make things worse."

I saw Jacob checking Leah out like he couldn't wait to ambush her in a secluded corner and kiss her, and my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, with no one willing to pick them up and glue them back together.

"Where are you guys going?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Leah opened her mouth and was obviously going to toss off some snide comments when Jake answered for her, "We're just going to meet up with a few friends for a casual dinner, Quil, Embry, Sam, Paul, and Jared. Nothing special." He emphasized the words 'nothing special' and for a moment hope returned to my heart. Leah stared at him with her 'cold daggers look' that she'd used on me so many times. It was a ferocious look meant to shut people up.

I looked at Leah's fancy and fashionable outfit and then looked over at Jake's simple tight black tee and jeans, and found myself almost smiling at the comparison.

After they left, Rachel continued to help me sort out the new stuff that we had bought, and I told her that I would be getting a shower. Sighing, I took out an ensemble of all my favourite "bath stuff". They included my very favourite mint apple bath lotion, fresh vanilla shampoo, cooling silk body powder, and lavender-scented cream conditioner.

I stepped into the hot tub and then stopped in pleasant surprise. Beside the towel rack was a piece of the unmistakable rose-and-honey-scented notepaper I had given Jake on our one-month anniversary years ago, although of course now the smell wasn't there anymore. On that very piece of paper, in Jake's very own handwriting:

Dear Nessie,

I hope you forgive me for not spending proper time with you since you've moved into Leah's house. Please don't think I hate you. I could never hate you, and there's a lot of things I need you to forgive me for. Another example is for leaving without notice all those years ago. Well, I'm sure you remember telling me the story of your abusive family, just before I left. All will be revealed on Wednesday.

Nessie, please meet me in the clearing near the cliffs on Wednesday. Leah will also be there. I have to make things clear, not just to her but to both of you. I hope you will understand.

However, if you don't have any feelings for me at all, be it friendly, brotherly or romantic feelings, destroy this letter and leave it to burn in the fireplace. Forgive me for being such a coward. I see you've made a good friend in the girl you met at the cliffs that day…Rachel Zane-Whitley, and I'm happy for you, also grateful to her for taking care of you when I couldn't.

You can't miss the clearing. It's just there, beyond the jagged rocks of the second slope. Meet me there at two o' clock in the afternoon sharp.

Sorry but thanks.

- Jake

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	9. Breath

Chapter 9

On Tuesday, Rachel came over to Leah's to visit me again. I was surprised this time; she'd never told me she was coming to visit. Leah, of course, saw her and assumed that I'd invited 'the bitch' over again. This time, I didn't bother correcting her.

"Why've you come?" I asked Rachel, subsequently inviting her to have a seat on my bed.

"Didn't you say you were going to meet Jacob on Wednesday?" she countered, ticking off the days on her fingers. Rachel had been even more excited than I had after I'd showed her Jake's note.

"_And_ Leah," I corrected her slightly, "which is the bad part. He said 'all will be revealed' and that he's gonna make things clear. What if he means that he loves Leah and tells me to back off?"

Rachel shrugged. "Trust me, he _won't_. What are you planning to wear tomorrow, anyway?"

I shrugged back at her and opened the door of my newly-invented walk-in closet. "I haven't decided yet. Probably the brown pants I wore shopping with you that day, paired with that pale yellow top you bought for me."

Rachel shook her head vigorously. "No, you can't! That's why I came over today. To ensure that you leave a lasting impression on Jacob tomorrow on your date."

"Rachel, it's _not_ a date," I insisted.

The girl only snorted in response. "Oh, but it will be. I'll be back tomorrow morning again with makeup that's gonna make you look absolutely perfect. Today is for planning your outfit and I'm bringing you back to the Canthacey District to get your nails done by professionals. Oh, yes, and I'm bringing one of my mother's stylists over tomorrow as well to help with the styling of your hair. I promise you, you're going to look gorgeous."

"Rachel," I protested, trying to sound as calm as possible, "it's not a date and you don't have to take all that trouble for me. He just told me to meet him there, that's all, nothing special."

"Yes, but you can be sure that Leah will be dressed her best. Don't you want to look worthy of her competition as well?" Rachel challenged, knowing that she had won this argument. "Besides, it won't be any trouble for me. Fashion _is_ my passion and it'll be fun."

An hour later Rachel pulled into a parking lot at the Canthacey District and we took a lift up to the eighth floor, the topmost floor, of the mall right beside Canthacey Hotshot, where we had already visited that day. This new mall among the cluster of the famous Canthacey Malls was called Streetshop.

The eighth floor was all about beauty. The two wings, the north and south wings, were both lined with hair salons, cosmetic surgery shops, nail art and design shops, and so many more. It was impossible for a girl _not_ to be at her true paradise here. Except for girls like me, of course, who would never actually know fashion and bother to do so, let alone have the money to afford the expensive shopping at the Canthacey District.

Rachel took me to the largest shop in the area, the Relaxation Bar. A dozen women knelt on the floor in front of posh-looking armchairs lined with velvet, six on each side, dressed in white cotton robes and matching slippers. Seven of these armchairs were already occupied, with females of all ages relaxing and leaning back getting a foot massage with cooling cucumbers over their eyelids.

There was a spa in the corner, as well as three trained hair stylists on high rotating chairs. At the very back of the shop was a nail parlor with the option to customize your very own nails at a high price, or choose from the 250 nail designs in their collection, not to mention the 50 "nail art" decorations.

Rachel produced a gold card with her name and personal details on it and handed it to the assistant behind the polished frosted-glass counter. I realized it was a "Relaxation Bar Gold Membership Card", the "highest-ranking" card out of the three available ones, Club, Platinum, and Gold. From the friendly, familiar way the assistant greeted Rachel, I could tell that they were already friends, and guessed that Rachel was probably a frequent customer of theirs, if not on an errand for her fashion-loving mother.

The assistant led us to the corner, where a middle-aged dark blonde was waiting with an array of nail art accessories were on a shelf beside her. Her name tag read 'Valentina'.

Rachel seated herself on the wooden stool on Valentina's other side and gestured for me to take a seat on the plush velvet armchair with a small plastic platform to place one's fingers on.

"Miss Zane-Whitley, are you not?" Valentina said. I noted a slight hint of a French accent in her voice. "How may I be of help to you?"

Rachel smiled politely at Valentina. "This is my friend Nessie here. She's got a naturally pale skin tone, and I think dark colors would look great in contrast with that shade of skin. I was thinking perhaps dark blue, scarlet, or something classy but yet not too fanciful. What do you think, Val?" I was a bit taken aback by the casual way Rachel addressed Valentina.

Valentina stared me up and down, as though trying to weigh the pros and cons of each shade of nail color mentally. "Maybe I could just go for a classic black. It's the safest color…" I suggested in a quiet aside to Rachel.

Rachel looked horrified, but I wasn't exactly surprised. I'd prepared myself for this kind of reaction, since I had never been someone's idea of "fashionable". "No!" she whispered in the same horrified tone that matched her expression. "Never, ever go for black unless you're attending a funeral or any other solemn occasion. That's the most basic mistake no women should make, even though sadly many of them have the misconception that wild colors make them stand out and black is usually the safest color."

After spending time debating, Rachel finally decided on a two-tone nail design labeled as 'Blue Midnight'. The first, lighter tone up my nail was to be painted a glossy, casual medium tone blue, and the second, darker tone running along the bottom part of my nail was to be painted a sleek, classy midnight-blue. Rachel also decided to place three high-shine silver mini-stars on each of my nails as a decoration, and then left when Valentina had started work to find me some good fashion magazines to read.

The entire nail art thing cost Rachel a couple hundred dollars, and she didn't even seemed bummed by the fact that she'd had to fork out that much money for a girl she'd only known for a week. I questioned her on that point, and again she repeated how 'fashion was her passion' and all of that.

We drove back to Leah's house and went straight down to the basement to my room, and into my walk-in wardrobe.

"Let me figure out how to use this," Rachel hummed as her eyes appraised the panel of buttons next to the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the closet.

She then pressed a button with the words 'Outfit Planner' marked on it in bold black print. Almost immediately, the mirror lifted and folded up, tucking itself away in the depths of the closet I'd never really explored. A sort of brown mattress-like thing was pushed out in place of the mirror.

But the mattress wasn't really a mattress at all. There were gaps for shoes, bags, belts and other such accessories, with a space in the middle for outfits.

Rachel hemmed and hawed over my outfits. Seeing as there was nothing much I could do, I just followed her instructions and would occasionally bring in a couple of fashion magazines "stolen" from Leah's conventional library.

By the end of the evening, Rachel had triumphantly emerged with a beautiful outfit.

There was a dress of deep red silk with black trimmings over it. Just after that dress had been bought, Rachel had sewn gold threads across the neckline, waistline, and hemline. It showed more cleavage than I would have deemed necessary, but Rachel insisted it her way. The dress ended midthigh, with flexible red ballet flats with a gold ribbon on each of them to match. Rachel had bought me a golden-bronze open-heart rose gold chain pendant, which she now placed together and set it on a separate rack.

The next morning, Rachel's mother's stylist came over to Leah's house. She was named Amber and combed my tangled bronze hair so that they fell in soft curls, cascading down my back and shoulders, and shook them loose to get the "wind-blown" look, or so Amber and Rachel called it.

Then, Amber padded my pale cheeks with rose-pink blusher, with natural-looking pink lip-gloss and coated thick mascara. According to Amber, my eyes were "really expressive" and she wanted to bring out the best in them.

Amber added eyeshadow that was two parts smoky and one part shiny, I suppose it was a seductive combination. She dabbed a final coat of smooth-skin foundation and concealer on my face, and then pronounced me ready to go.

Afraid that my flats would be ruined if I walked to the cliffs, Rachel cautiously drove me along the rocky path that led up to the first slope of the jagged cliff. When her Mercedes would go no further, Rachel stopped her car and got out with me.

"You'll have to go on foot," Rachel explained, pointing out the correct path to the second cliff where Jake had wanted us to meet. "I can't accompany you there. Do remember, Nessie, look confident, chin up, shoulders back, stand tall…be relaxed, be natural, be yourself. Be beautiful and stare Leah down. You can win this. You can win Jacob."

I took a deep breath and did as she asked, trying to look confident. Then I stepped up and over the small sloping hill that led from the first cliff to the second cliff, and immediately saw the clearing Jacob had been referring to.

How could I have missed it? There was a picnic table set up with food on it, and a tent with lights strung from the top even though it was bright early afternoon still.

Leah was standing casually by the tent talking to Jacob, but all I saw of her outfit was a glimmer of blue.

I took another deep breath, breathing through my mouth this time, blowing softly out through my lips, and stepped bravely into the clearing.

**Review, please! **


	10. Answer

Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks to all my readers, especially those who reviewed. A review can make an author's day. So, yeah, anyway, getting back to the story, I hope you're liking it so far. As you've hoped and guessed, the ending couple will be Jake and Nessie, but whether it's happy or sad, I'll leave that to later.**

**Enjoy!**

As I entered the clearing I could see both Leah and Jacob checking me out. Leah looked at me and my outfit with scorn and contempt. Jacob's expression was unreadable but I had hoped he would view me and my new taste in fashion in a positive light. His black eyes held an amount of interest in them, and his lips were set in a tight, rigid line, as though in firm determination.

Leah looked stunning, as usual. Her jet-black hair had been re-straightened and the strands fanned out behind her shoulders in an alluring style. She wore a one-piece dress, like me, but hers was slightly longer and fell to her knees. It was an empire cut turquoise wave dress with silver sequined patterns along the high waistline, somewhat fitted in parallel with her naturally high cheekbones. Her shoes were sapphire peep-toe heels, which seemed too high and teetering on the balance between falling and walking, not something you'd expect a woman to wear on a rocky cliff. Silver hoop earrings and a posh white leather clutch completed the look.

"Nessie!" Jacob exclaimed, jogging up the path to greet me. There was something in his voice I couldn't quite detect…relief?

Behind him, where only I could see, Leah rolled her eyes at me, but I saw an undercurrent of panic. I didn't know why I could detect Leah's feelings quite well but couldn't quite grasp Jacob's. Was it because it was a "female thing"? Was it because Leah always made her negative feelings for me fairly obvious?

Anyhow, Jacob promised he would make his feelings clear today and I was too impatient to ponder over Leah's reactions and emotions. The only fear and worry I kept inside me, preventing me from knowing the answer, was the actual answer _itself_. How would I live if what Jake meant was that he loved Leah and wanted to make his intentions clear to me, in other words wanting me to back off? I wasn't concerned about the snide remarks Leah would surely make. I was far more concerned about my life without Jacob. I had somehow managed to survive a few years without him, and now that I'd finally found him back, I wasn't about to let him go.

Jacob motioned for Leah and I to follow him into the tent he'd set up earlier, and we made ourselves as comfortable as possible on the slouchy beanbags strewn about the tent. I could see Leah's distaste for the slouchy beanbags as she had clearly expected something better from the man she loved deeply.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Do make yourselves comfortable, ladies," he said with as much gentlemanly poise as he could muster. The irony of that sentence almost made me laugh. How comfortable could we possibly be in this tense, highly competitive environment? Leah clearly didn't think much of me as her _rival_, but in truth I was. And since Jacob's intentions were to make clear the woman he truly loved today, neither of us were taking any chances.

All attention was focused on Jacob now as he began to speak again. "Okay, Leah, Renesmee, my reason for asking you both out here today is for me to make things clear to you. Both of you, as I'm sure, have received a personal note from me. And as I've observed over the past weeks ever since Renesmee's moved into your house, Leah, you two haven't exactly been on good terms. I know the reasons, but I shall not speak of them, as it might unintentionally cause either of you unnecessary pain."

Jacob paused to take a breath, and Leah said in a bored tone, "Cut the whole speech, Jake. Just get straight to the point. You know what we want to know and there's no point delaying that fact because the sooner you get over it, the better." Leah stopped to shoot me a smug smile, as though she knew she was already the winner. I was pained to say that she probably was, with all her beauty and allure and everything, but the stubborn yet optimistic part of me was thinking, _Beauty isn't everything, you know. Give yourself a chance. Never admit you've lost until the last moment. Remember, it takes two to love._

Jacob stared across the tent at Leah, and then back at me. I sighed inwardly and shrank noticeably, allowing my purple beanbag to devour me within its slouchy depths.

"So…Leah?" Jacob said, his eyes trying to focus on something but not quite succeeding. His eyes, darker than ever now with their intensity, kept on drifting between Leah's dark irises and my brown ones, as though contemplating…deciding…two women both equally eager to meet his gaze and have him affirm that she was the winner…

I braced myself for Jacob's words. "Leah, I know these might not be the words you want to hear right now, and I'm sorry for this, but I can't force myself to love someone I can't. I love you like my own sister, Leah, but that's not enough. I need you to back off because I love Renesmee. You are a woman of worth, with desirable qualities; you'll find a good man who can love you and cherish you forever. Nessie, please forgive me for all the wrong I've done you in the past, and say you'll be mine forever."

Leah and I both stared at Jacob and then at each other in shock; complete, utter shock, just not the same kind of shock.

"I don't believe it," Leah said slowly, standing up and backing to the edge of the tent. Then realization sank in and she exploded in a wild fury. "You bitch, slut…" Leah was lost for words as she catapulted herself violently at me, clawing at my hair and chest.

I struggled to pull away from her cold iron grasp, and through my peripheral vision, I saw Jacob rushing anxiously to pull Leah off of me. Leah staggered back as though in a daze and picked at her own hair breathlessly. Jacob held me by my shoulders, subsequently moving to put a safe distance between Leah and I as far as the spacious tent would allow.

"You're right," Leah gasped, staring straight at Jacob. "I should have deserved better than a man who gets so easily influenced by a random street slut! Seth has created a chocolate empire with the money Father left him when he died. The empire has expanded across America and Europe. I'll move back into my house in Copenhagen and start over with a new life to help Seth with his business. You can go ahead with your beloved Nessie but you'll never get a happy ending."

"I'm happy as long as I'm with her," Jacob replied defiantly, and I felt instant joy surging throughout my whole body, charging me with a 1000V electrical power.

"Fine. Have your way," Leah spat as she exited the tent swiftly, but immediately stumbling over the rocky surface on her sapphire studded heels.

"Did she hurt you?" Jacob asked quietly when Leah was gone, smoothing a hand down my shoulder and then running it down my back. My skin tingled at his touch.

"No, no; I'm fine." I wasn't going to ruin this moment with Jacob with any injury; how unromantic. Apart from the pain still in my chest, I wasn't hurt. For a moment I could empathise with Leah, catching a glimpse of how it felt like to be unwanted, rejected. But I refused to empathise with her now that I'd finally had my turn at happiness after all the sadness and anger she'd caused me.

Jacob held me tight to his chest and pressed his warm lips to my hair and my forehead. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" He mumbled softly into my hair.

"May I know what you meant, all those weeks ago when I first moved into Leah's, and you said something to her about "as long as they are alive, I shall not rest"? And…and…if you truly did love me, why were you doing all _those things_ with Leah? Why did you leave me, right from the start? Oh…" I collapsed onto his chest, and he collapsed onto the tent floor. "There are so many questions you left unanswered!"

"Firstly, Nessie, you must understand that I left to protect you from further harm." Jacob sighed and cuddled me tightly on his broad chest, not wanting to let me go. I, too, did not want to let go of him, either. Every single inch of my body was touched by an inch of his.

When I didn't speak, he continued. "I left right after you told me your story about your family abuse. I left to stop them. I committed murder for you, I killed their leader. I shot your grandfather Carlisle through the head for all the pain he caused you, both emotionally and physically. Even the wrestler Emmett didn't bother me then. He, Rosalie, and Jasper took the next plane into Apeldoorn, Gelderland, Holland.

In Apeldoorn, I found Leah Clearwater, helping Seth out in the making of the family business, Chocolate Fantasy. Apparently, Leah had several houses across Europe and America at the time, one of which was in Apeldoorn. I recognized Leah as one of your friends from Forks at the time. Realizing that you would hate me for leaving you, I took Leah back to Forks and went out as a couple. My dad, Billy, was also nagging me about the time to find a girlfriend and all, you know. By then I'd discovered that Leah loved me just like how I loved you, past the sister-brother love I could give her. I decided not to let Leah in on my secret, on the pretense that she and I were not a real couple. I wouldn't have liked to hurt her, even then.

Meanwhile, I found myself a simple job being an office clerk. One day when I came back home to Leah's, where I had my own rooms on the second floor, I found your name in the classified papers looking for a suitable home. I suggested that she take you in then, and she was reluctant and hesitant at first, knowing you had once been my girlfriend, and feared that our feelings for each other would ignite once more. She was the only one in the world who knew about my other secret then, the one about murdering your grandfather Carlisle, and she was living under the false name of Leanne Willow MacKenzie.

The rest you know, but what I have to tell you is that I've never stopped loving you, Renesmee, _ever_. Even if you hate me and refuse to accept me after all the truth is out, I want to be rejected knowing that you know I left to protect you, and I will always be here for you."

Jake took a deep breath and stared deep into my eyes. His burned with passion and love, and were as intense and liquid as ever. I saw my own eyes reflected in his, and there were no words, just a streak of tears running down my cheek silently.

I looked away from Jake, our hands still on each others' shoulders. Jake placed his fingers carefully under my chin and tilted my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze, and brushed away the tears from my face. The stray strands of bronze hair, which had come loose from Amber's carefully-styled updo, Jacob brushed them away as well and tilted my face closer to his, closer…

I inhaled his deep, heady scent of manly pine and fresh wood and smiled subconsciously to myself. Trying my best to be seductive, as I had seen in the movies, I blew gently through my lips, letting the soft gush of air brush across his face. Then I leaned forward as though to kiss him, and "accidentally" leaned in such an angle that he could very clearly see down my minidress, which Rachel had so carefully picked out for me. Going with my old-girl style was going to ruin this romantic moment and I couldn't afford that kind of mistake.

Jacob blinked and edged himself ever closer to me, his lips moving just slightly in a silent movement. Impatiently, I yanked the bottom part of my dress out from behind me and my ankle edged around his waist in a suggestive pose.

Jake reached around to grasp my neck and hair, pulling me closer again. His other hand wrapped around my waist and tugged me straight towards him. I, too, eagerly placed both my hands in a hold around his neck.

Finally, our lips met in that one and magical moment, like one of my impossible fantasies come true, something you'd expect only to see in a fairytale. When Sleeping Beauty finally finds her Prince Charming…_not only her eyelids open, you know. Her heart opens as well and she's his from that moment on._

He tasted sweet, like cherries and peppermint. There was a refreshing thing about his lips, soft and warm. I thought back to the time, the only other man I'd kissed (reluctantly), Sebastian. The enormous difference between then and now…I sighed to myself in content, wanting only to focus on this moment.

Our lips parted on accord, two beings forming into one, lips moving in sync. This moment was one of perfect bliss, possibly the best in my life.

I felt Jake begin to smile against my lips as we fell back kissing, deeper and deeper…

**So? How was it? Personally this has been my favourite chapter so far. Nessie finally gets her Jake! End of story? Nope! **

**Oh, and…**

**Remember to review! **


	11. Surprise

Chapter 11

Nessie POV 

Jake and I rolled about the tent floor, unclothed and giggling. We were currently engaged in a passionate kiss and as he broke away from me he smiled down at the exact spot where I was dripping wet.

"It feels good to know that I can make a girl feel that way," he whispered into my ear, and I shivered, not because of the slight breeze which had picked up outside the tent but the sexy, husky way his voice sounded right now.

Jake promptly lay flat down on the floor, his legs curled up, and started licking me clean dry. That move only made me wetter, and he swallowed everything to the last drop without complaint.

He sat up on one of the beanbags, hoisting me on my knees beside him, and bit down hard on one of my nipples while he fingered the other sensually, then switched places with his lips and hands and gave each side the same treatment.

There would not be anyone for miles, unless Leah had suddenly decided to come back because she forgot something, which was unlikely. Part of my brain wondered what she was doing now. Was she packing, driving, sobbing, or what? I'd never seen Leah shed a tear before, with the iron-woman-and-smug-sneer-exterior she always had around me, with that snide air. But deep down inside, right in her heart, wasn't every woman the same? Every woman was emotionally inclined, and soft on the inside no matter how hard up she trained herself to be outside.

Jake teased me for awhile, adjusting himself around my most sensitive parts. He was being careful; but I didn't want that. I wanted no holding part on his side today,_ especially_ since I'd waited for this moment all my life.

When he knew I couldn't take the teasing anymore, he stuck himself right up into me. Waves of ecstasy washed over me the moment he did that. Although the difference here was larger than the Grand Canyon, I had experienced it before, with Sebastian. Only with Sebastian, I'd been a virgin at the time and experienced mostly pain…Well, not that I would have felt any sort of pleasure with him in that environment, or in any environment for that matter. Apart from Jake being, of course, my one and only true love, I had been _forced_ to do it with Sebastian. Now, I was all but reluctant. Anyone would have to had been blind to say that I was unwilling at this moment.

"God, Ness, so…tight…" Jake muttered as he slammed harder into me, hitting spots I never knew existed. "Hey, sorry, I forgot to ask you _the_ question."

"What?" I asked, oblivious at first. Then I realized what he was driving at. "Oh, no, Jake, I'm not a virgin, but you have to understand." He stopped what he was doing while I explained to him the whole story of Sebastian, before and after. He was practically shaking in anger when I was done.

"Looks like I might have to commit another murder," Jacob joked, laughing bitterly. "I can't imagine what it would be like to have lived a life like yours. I'm so sorry, Nessie, but life has been cruel to you, hasn't it?"

"Maybe," I yawned, feeling suddenly exhausted. "But where it has been cruel, at least it wasn't unfair. At least, for where it has been cruel, it has made everything up to me by letting me find you…fall in love with you…and have you love me back…"

The following weekend, Jake asked me out to dinner. No, no, not the kind of expensive restaurant buffet dinner, but just a simple dinner. It was just pizza and Coke in his old garage, he explained, nothing special.

Leah had left a note for us in the morning, explaining her absence. As she'd told us near the cliffs that afternoon, she was moving to Copenhagen to help Seth out again, just like all those years she'd done before Jacob had taken her back to Forks. Chocolate Fantasy was expanding mainly in Europe, but there were several chain stores in the States as well. Some months after Leah had left, Seth had moved the Chocolate Fantasy Main Office and Headquarters to Copenhagen from Apeldoorn.

The thing was, Leah had decided to leave her Forks mansion for us, as a "token of her love for Jacob", in the hope that "he would realize that Renesmee is not the best woman in the world and that he will come to love me someday". The last part is really mushy and I'm not going to read it out to you, but seriously…I had no idea Leah could actually write this stuff. Women are all soft inside, but Leah had never shown this "softer" side of her in front of me before, or at least she'd never dared to. The note had been found in Jacob's bedroom, so perhaps she'd assumed that he would have read the note alone.

While Jacob was out working, Rachel came over again, another unexpected visit. She wanted to know all the things that happened when Jake and I were alone in the tent that day, and I told her, but kept the more private, romantic details to myself. No need for her to know that.

Rachel learned of Jake's invitation. Despite my protests that it was only a casual, very simple dinner, Rachel insisted on choosing the perfect outfit and doing my hair. Amber was booked for the day, so Rachel did my hair herself instead. Fortunately, I got rid of one "beauty point", as Rachel liked to call it, by putting up a good argument against Rachel's pleas to allow her to take me to the Canthacey District again to do my nails. She had also "thought of the perfect style of makeup for a casual dinner".

On the day of the dinner, Rachel visited me again.

"You did great the last time, Ness," she gushed admirably, staring me up and down. "See? I told you…Jacob would have chosen you. I'm happy for you, of course, but also really thankful that he successfully got rid of the bitch. Imagine if I could get rid of her with a couple of words! Simple as that, I would have done it long ago."

Rachel reached into the walk-in closet to pull out a gauzy, translucent purplish-blue blouse with a curved-shape cut and gold petal rhinestones trailing down one side. She pulled out a tight gray tank-top to go underneath the blouse, and bland gray three-quarter pants to match, with spunky bright-yellow heels with a pointy front flat.

"There," Rachel announced triumphantly as she made me put the clothes on. "That's what you wear for a _casual_ dinner. Tell me he's not going to do anything else with you tonight." She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the room. "I'll leave you to change and then I'll be right back with the makeup."

When I was done changing, Rachel forced me into a chair and wheeled it directly in front of the mirror, where she started dabbing my cheeks with faint blusher, not too heavy to keep the whole look light and natural. After all, it was a casual dinner. Thick mascara and jewels were unnecessary but a presentable outfit was. The old Renesmee would have thrown on a simple tee with jeans and running shoes with a worn-out Converse bag and left.

For my eyes to shine with the natural look, Rachel only accentuated my lashes and brown irises with powdery pink-brown eyeshadow containing the slightest bit of glittery shine. My eyebrows were then drawn carefully in a thin line with an extremely fine marked pencil, my lips glossed in a smooth once-over.

Rachel, once again, drove me to Jacob's old house. How can I thank her? If not for her, I would have long fallen into the hands of Death, not knowing of Jake's love for me. If not for her, I would have been the old, ugly Renesmee. If not for her, I would never have gotten to Jake's appointed meeting venues on time.

Billy, Jacob's father, had flown to Disneyland last June to attend the wedding ceremony of his beloved daughter, Rebecca Black. Since then, Rebecca had moved in to live with her Spanish husband in Pontevedra, Galicia. Billy had bought another house in Seattle and rarely came to visit. When he did, it was to lounge in front of the TV for half a day, or to go fishing with his old friend, Charlie Swan. The garage of this old, nearly abandoned house was Jacob's sort of workplace. He hadn't given up his hobby of fixing cars up ever since I'd met him years ago, and if his time wasn't being spent with me, at Leah's, or at the office, you would undoubtedly find him here. Leah had left us, left her sprawling Forks mansion, with such grand luxuries we couldn't possibly have afforded on our own, which certainly we did not need. I was considering selling the house and moving into Billy's old house.

Jake was waiting for me in the garage. Rachel had stopped the car a couple hundred feet away from the front door to avoid awkwardness at having a girlfriend in the middle of the driveway, embarrassed.

The pizza and soda was already waiting for me as well, along with Jake. How could I have cared about mere _food_ when he was here, near me, loving me…

I smiled when I sat down beside him on the raised wooden plank two steps above the garage ground. I felt slightly overdressed next to him, even though neither of us commented, or at least bothered to comment. Jake was dressed casually and simply, in a navy tee with white shoulder stripes and cute faded jeans. He smiled back at me in a relaxed manner, and as a gentlemanly act offered me some pizza. I politely accepted a piece but stopped short when I saw the soda.

"One soda, one straw?" I questioned perceptively, raising one eyebrow and not meeting Jake's gaze.

He shrugged in response. "I thought you might enjoy it that way. You know, everything to make up for what I've done. You might have already forgiven me, but I haven't forgiven myself yet. Maybe spend some 'couple time', you know, together…" He trailed off, staring into my eyes.

"Right," I agreed easily. The thought of spending time with Jake – alone – made me understandably happy.

After we had our dinner, the sun had already set. For some reason Jake tugged me into his room, to "show me something".

"Come on, Ness, there's something important I gotta show you," he said. His voice contained lots of emotion. I placed it somewhere between eagerness and anxiety.

Confused and slightly bewildered, I followed Jake up to his old room, the room he had slept in his childhood days. I gasped when I saw the sight.

Multicolored strips of sequined banner hung from the ceiling, with traditional Japanese lanterns adorned with fake cherry blossoms and balloons hung among them. The room was lit up in a spectacular glow, and we didn't turn on the real, too-bright white lights in the room. Scented candles – vanilla, lavender, and rose – lit up the room as well, adding a romantic aroma which drifted between us. The walls had been plastered with midnight-blue-and-sapphire wallpaper, with glow-in-the-dark stars stuck randomly on it to create the classic night-sky effect.

Fresh roses – white, red, and pink – could be seen in every single corner. The whole setting was undeniably romantic, whether on sight or smell. "Jake, you did this?" I gasped breathlessly, still clutching on his arm.

Jake nodded. "You like?"

"Yes…" I whispered softly, taking in my new surroundings.

"That's not the real surprise yet," Jake said in a teasing voice, nudging my shoulder. He lifted me up onto the bed, which was adorned with fresh roses as well, and adjusted himself in a comfortable kneeling position next to the mattress.

I gasped again as realization sank in, but was unable to find the words to express my astonished feelings. Jake pulled out a box draped with red velvet from his jean pocket and slowly opened the box before me.

The thin silver band did not seem capable of supporting the diamond above it, which _had_ to be at least 3 carats. The diamond wasn't the large, extravagant ones as those of the royal family, but it shone brightly even in the dim light, each individual facet separating into millions of glittering tiny ones, sparkling in all its glory.

"Renesmee Carlie Cullen," Jacob said in that husky voice any girl could die for, "will you give me the honour of being your husband and make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me?"

"Oh, Jake," I cried, "yes!"

He slipped the ring onto my finger and our lips met once more.

"Thank you, Renesmee Black," he whispered into my mouth as we rolled onto the bed.

Subconsciously, we both smiled against each other's lips.


	12. Bliss

Chapter 12

**A/N: So, how do you like it? Nessie is officially one step closer towards her happily ever after, but will their love survive?**

Nessie POV

Nearly four and a half months after the night of the surprise, our wedding ceremony took place. It was a Saturday, to make convenience for our guests – not many, as both of us preferred simple weddings – and it was the 24th of September.

On the big day I was woken up early at six in the morning by Rachel – my bridesmaid, of course – to get ready. According to Rachel, there seemed to be many preparations to make, even though I didn't see how putting on a gentle touch of makeup, doing my hair and dressing me should take so much time. Jake would be coming over to fetch me at eleven sharp, in time for the lunch banquet we were arranging for family and close friends. The _real_ wedding banquet, however, to which other guests would be invited, would take place at seven tonight, and we'd be partying until midnight. A sort of party, that is, as Jake knew I hated stiff, overly-formal occasions.

Jacob's sister, Rebecca, flew in from Spain last week. She moved into Billy's old house, and has become good friends with Rachel as well. When I struggled to open my lids Rachel was standing in front of me, frantically shaking my shoulders, sending tremors right down my spine. Rebecca was right behind her, checking all the makeup pads laid out on the wooden dresser draped with pink satin.

My wedding gown was a long one with a line of train, a silky white empire cut with tailored modern floral patterns sewn across the bosom and waistline. It was strapless and showed off the curves of my shoulders and the arch of my neck. At the Canthacey District that day – apparently Rachel's favourite shopping area here – she'd bought a matching silver choker with lace to go with my gown, and it looked absolutely awesome – vintage Victorian style.

Rachel carefully fitted the gown over my head after I'd brushed my teeth and cleansed my pores, whilst Rebecca maneuvered the zip and angled it on the other side so it wouldn't catch in my hair.

My wedding ring glistened in the glow of the lights in my room. Jacob had found and bought a nice little apartment in a condominium not far from Leah's old Forks house, which was now inhabited by a family with two daughters of the name Johansson. So, we were currently on poor mode right now. Jake had also been promoted from a regular office clerk – his good-hearted boss had, thankfully, recognized his potential – and promoted him to become the executive manager of the company. There were also friends from the office coming to our wedding banquet tonight.

Apparently, Rebecca was even more brilliant than Rachel at makeup. Rachel was still the fashion expert and all, but what I didn't know previously was that Rebecca had trained to become a professional makeup artist, but somehow or other this long-lived dream had failed her. Rebecca refused to state the reasons – a long story, she claimed – but I sensed the sadness beneath that uncaring, quiet mask.

So it was Rebecca who did my makeup today. She'd unconsciously use a few Spanish words when speaking to us. So it seemed as though she'd taken up the habit of speaking Spanish when living in Spain with her husband.

"Rachel, get me the _brillo de labios_," Rebecca would say, which meant Spanish for 'lip gloss'.

Rachel and Rebecca had spent afternoons planning my hair and makeup, and they'd outdone themselves this time. I looked amazing when they'd finished. If only Aunt Alice and Aunt Rosalie and Grandma Esme could see me now…If only my mother Bella could be here! As Rachel was my bridesmaid, Rebecca had agreed to be the one to escort me down the aisle, as my father Edward was sadly absent. Where was he now? Jake and I had declared our marriage in the classified column of the paper – had he seen it? Did he even think of me often, as I would think of him?

Suddenly, amidst all the hustle and bustle of preparing for the wedding, I fell silent and stared unseeingly into the mirror as Rachel and Rebecca busied themselves with styling my hair. For the first time since Jake had declared his love for me in the tent that day, since I found wonderful girlfriends in Rachel and Rebecca, I felt…

Alone.

There were no family members around, no people of whom I was blood-related. Seriously…How many brides had been totally alone, without any kin, on their wedding day? Those brides who had fathers escorting them down the aisles…who had mothers fussing over their hair…grandparents tearing up and saying how much they would miss her…aunts and uncles cracking jokes about their husbands…had no idea how lucky they were.

I sighed quietly and stared at my reflection. While accompanying Rachel on various shopping trips, mainly to the Canthacey District, I hadn't _completely_ neglected the old side of myself, the more tomboyish side of Renesmee, the side which would play football with my uncles for hours on end.

My naturally milk-chocolate eyes hadn't lost their spark of mischief through all the thick layers of eyeshadow, eye liner and mascara. My lips, no matter how glossy red they might be, served as a representative for the imperfect part of me – my lips were lopsided in their balance, the upper lip a little too full for the lower lip (I'd inherited that trait from Bella). My cheeks still flushed that tomato red when I walked long distances and ran in the fields, even though it was not often now. When I was a kid, my brown brows had been quite the bushy type, if you know what I mean. Even beneath all that brow pencils and stuff, my brows had grown thinner, but the end of my left brow, now made invisible by a matching pencil, still had some of my childhood bushiness in them. My nose was still dotted with very tiny freckles. They were almost invisible as they matched the colour of my skin, and could only be seen close-up in a mirror, but had been made totally and utterly invisible under the layers of concealer and foundation.

Instead of the usual 'Go Natural' look, Rebecca had decided to abandon the gentle rose-pink lip glosses in favour of wild, dark cherry-red shades. My 'Wedding Day' makeup would, of course, differ from my 'Casual Meetings' makeup…not that I could say for sure which makeup for which kind of style.

The blusher on my cheeks was stronger this time, a more intense cherry-blossom pink instead of the usual rose-pink to match my 'Go Natural' lips. The eyeshadow, instead of colours to complement my eyes and stand safely in the background, seemed now a dominant part of my eyes. The shadowy effect, or illusion, posed above my eyes now was a bold shade of purple, halfway between violet and lavender-lilac. There was a hint of pink in that shade, but I couldn't be sure…

After two entire hours of fussing and debating, I was pronounced ready. Rachel had recommended me a berry-scented facial cleansing foam, as well as an eye mask, which all took an hour as well. And thus at five past nine my look was complete. My hair looked better than I could have imagined – it fell in soft waterfall-like curls down my shoulders and back, flowing like gentle waves, and Rebecca had carefully slicked it with gel and applied some sort of conditioner cream to make it look glossier and more chic than usual.

I don't think you'd be interested to know all the minor details of my wedding day, _especially_ those concerning makeup and fashion. Jake came to fetch me with two of his friends from his office company – muscular men named Colin and Brady.

At around eleven-forty-five, the priest at the grand and intricately decorated church stood before Jake and I as we held hands. Jake squeezed my hand in an affectionate gesture and I looked up at him, a faint smile playing on my lips.

"Do you take Renesmee Cullen to be your wedded wife? To protect her, love her, and care for her, through health and sickness, through wealth and poverty, to love and to cherish, and till death do you part."

"I do." Jacob had an easy smile; a relaxed, 100% casual smile. Was he not as nervous as I was?

"Do you take Jacob Black to be your wedded husband? To comfort him, encourage him, and love him, through health and sickness, through wealth and poverty, to love and to cherish, and till death do you part."

"I do." I tried my best to control my voice and to keep it from wobbling and further unsteadiness in the midst of my joy.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Jake lifted the white gauze veil over my head and our lips locked again in a kiss more passionate and sweeter than any we'd ever shared.

So…

Now I know what true bliss feels like.

**So Nessie thinks she has her happily ever after, and so does Jake, and so might some of you. ****Anticipate more, because that's not the end! **

**I anticipate your reviews as well! **


	13. Privilege

Chapter 13

**A/N: Okay, this is going to be THE last chapter. I promised you a twist, didn't I? Anyhoo, presenting the last bit of My Happily Ever After – Enjoy!**

Instead of leaving right after the wedding ceremony, Jake and I chose to leave for our honeymoon two days after the proper wedding. I'd mentioned that we'd bought a condominium apartment overlooking the beach, didn't I, and that we were currently on "poor" mode? Well – here's the thing about Jake – he insisted that a honeymoon was a once-in-a-lifetime thing (I mean, it _is_) and that he wouldn't get it past me if he didn't give me a proper honeymoon. According to him, a honeymoon was part of the groom's duty to the bride, after all.

So, with the bit of money Jake had left over from his accumulated payment, his bottom bit of savings (for the rest he had used to buy the apartment), my own savings, the money Aunt Alice and Grandma Esme had left me, the money Leah had left for us as well as the money Jake had lent from Rebecca and Billy, we were able to scrape together an exotic Europe honeymoon.

From the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, we made our way to the snowy mountain-caps of Switzerland, and then across to the baguettes and Eiffel Tower of France. We stayed for four days each in Switzerland and France (my parents used to crack jokes about Switzerland being neutral, which I could never understand). Then we flew from France to greet the cappuccinos and tiramisus of Italy, and then to the exotic relaxations of Spain.

From Spain, we would take a direct flight back to Seattle…back _home_. The whole trip had lasted fifteen days, with two nights spent on the plane. The 12h-30min flight would mean having two meals and a sleep on board, which was not exciting news for me since I wasn't one of those who felt totally at ease on the plane.

Jake and I sat in economy class, six rows from the back, seat 62A and 62B respectively. In the middle of the wide aisle were four connecting seats, and then two more seats on the double aisle on the other side. The plane was cool and comfortable, with the pillows and blankets the flight attendants offered us, and I tried to feel at ease.

Apart from the high altitude and lower level of oxygen on the plane that usually got me a downright headache, I felt something wrong…an intuition. Something of the sort that my late Aunt Alice was always known to have. She'd stare off into space for ages and then speak of an imminent threat, a danger in that spooky voice belonging to phony people at a carnival who claimed the ability to look into your future. Uncle Jasper would often tease her about it, while I'd always wondered exactly _what_ she had seen in those so-called visions of hers. After all, she was only human.

It wasn't my first time having this sort of intuition, and even though they rarely came, when they did they were almost always right. This intuition seemed much stronger and more…_real_ than the rest had been before. It forced into my mind a picture of this plane plummeting from the sky, crashing into the rocky mountains or the ocean below.

I wouldn't know how it could happen, but this sixth sense told me that I would not live to see it. This flight would end in tragedy.

I sank my head into my heads and groaned quietly. "What is it baby?" Jake asked quietly, lifting my chin up to meet his gaze.

I tried to get rid of that horribly pessimistic feeling. _It must just be me, _I forced myself to think. _Why, Nessie, are you overreacting? For such a little intuition it can have much greater effects on you, can't it? The pilots are flying this plane perfectly well. You'll live past this flight; of course you will. You'll live and see your babies grow and be with Jake for many more years to come. _

I told Jake about my intuition. Despite my attempts to push it out of my mind, it always came back, stronger and stronger…I saw Jake trying to laugh the matter off. I saw that with my own eyes. But was it just my imagination or had there been a flicker of anxiety and troubled frustration in those black eyes of his?

Minutes later, the plane jerked violently forward. Several of the passengers cried out in shock and I very nearly lurched out of my seat. The seatbelt warning light flashed on and Jake put a strong, reassuring hand on my shoulder. There was comfort in my touch but I couldn't be comforted at all.

The plane jerked back and forth in a rough movement that shook me to the core not only physically but also mentally. The two sides of me battled in a tense argument: the rational side of me, which battled for a longer-than-usual turbulence, and the illogical side of me, which battled for the intuition coming true. Either way, it seemed as though now the illogical side was winning…I kicked myself mentally, trying to make me believe that the rational side was right. After all, both sides were in my control. Figurative, overactive imagination was the culprit responsible for creating those two imaginary sides of me.

"What's going on?" Jake attacked the tall blonde flight attendant as she strode past us with a worried expression on her face. The plane jerked backwards again and a baby burst into tears.

"Sir…" The attendant looked at a loss, but she plastered on a bright, smiling face to respond to Jake's question. "Oh, sir, please remain calm. We're simply experiencing a slight turbulence now. It'll be fine. Trust me, I've experienced something worse. Everything will be all right."

"I hope so," I heard Jake mutter as the flight attendant rushed away on her heels. Nervously, I picked at the hem of my blue-and-silver halterneck dress. I leaned back into Jake's open arms, trying to absorb the warmth and comfort I felt in them. My safe haven would always be here for me, as I would be for him.

Just minutes after Jake had questioned the flight attendant, the plane jerked violently again; this time, it was followed by a loud bang. The sound vibrated throughout the cabin and made the bags stowed in the overhead compartment shake. My toes shook as well and I huddled further into Jake's arms.

The plane suddenly lurched into a speedy descent and plunged down once, twice…The yellow oxygen masks dropped down from over our heads. This time, most of the other passengers cried out in shock. An elderly couple behind us whispered softly to each other, then the old lady said to her husband, "If the plane crashes, I can't swim, darling…"

"I know, Margie, but neither can I. But it won't come to that, I promise, it won't…"

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking," Captain Hassenwood said over the speaker system. "We are currently experiencing a slight engine failure, so if you would please remain calm and put on your oxygen masks. Do not panic, please; there is nothing we can't fix. There is, however, an estimated delay upon our arrival at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport…"

Seconds later, a deafening sound tore the silence in the cabin apart. It sounded like metal being hit, burnt, and then forcefully ripped apart, making a terrible screeching noise following the sound. It drowned out all the passengers' cries and prayers, but one voice stood out among us.

It was the voice of a young English boy. "Momma, Momma! The engine's on fire! Look, there at the engine, look! Oh…" his voice trailed off. I leaned forward in my seat and saw his eyes strained, looking out of the window at the horizon. "Momma, I can see the buildings! Look, there, the tall one! I can see a glittery globe…I can see the buildings!"

I heard the rushed, heaving pants of his mother. I heard the panicked cries of everyone on board. I heard Jake whispering my name. I heard him whispering how he would always love me.

I saw passengers closing their eyes in prayer. I saw them screaming in frenzy. I saw the blonde flight attendant hurry pass us again. I saw a crack in the floorboards.

I felt panicked; my intuition was coming true. I felt the warmth radiating from Jake's always-open arms. And, most strongly of all, I felt my love for him too. I felt…the impact.

The plane made contact with the ground. I may only hope that a good-hearted person may bury Jake and I together. I may only hope that we will meet in our afterlife, and to love and be loved again…

Death should be considered a tragedy. It _is_.

But to die in the arms of him whom you love…

It's not.

To die with him whom you love, it's not something one may have upon death when one wishes for it.

No.

To die with him whom you love…

It's a privilege.

**A/N: How did you like that? I myself shed a few tears while writing this. I should try a few more happy endings :) Remember to review! I heart you!**


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